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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24277744">Honor Bound</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sifshadowheart/pseuds/sifshadowheart'>sifshadowheart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bonds [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animagus, BAMF Harry Potter, Blood Magic, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Harry has a potty mouth, Implied Mpreg, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Magical Binding, Magical Tattoos, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Multi, Political Alliances, Political Expediency, Politics, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Powerful Harry Potter, Sadistic Raina Wallis, Sadomasochist Gabriel, Slash, Worldbuilding, d/s dynamics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:53:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>86,532</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24277744</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sifshadowheart/pseuds/sifshadowheart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has started learning the ropes in his new world, will he survive the deeper he goes or will it drag him under?  In the tense and delicate power structure of St. Louis a single misstep could be lethal.  With a past cloaked in mystery and a godfather trying to keep him safe, he's drawn the eyes - and attention - of several powerful players in St. Louis's preternatural community.</p><p>Not all attention, as Harry very well knows, is positive.</p><p>However, Harry isn't the only one causing mayhem in St. Louis, and a secret that has been carefully kept from him may be the undoing of all that he has managed to build.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Jason Schuyler, Harry Potter/Jean-Claude (Anita Blake)/Jason Schuyler, Harry Potter/Rafael (Anita Blake), Jean-Claude (Anita Blake)/Harry Potter, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Sirius Black &amp; Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bonds [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722766</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>612</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1779</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Ashes' Library</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story is going to go very A/U and doesn't actually represent any of the books in the Anita Blake universe.  As you might guess from the warnings and tag list, we're dealing with the Raina/Gabriel situation and everything that implies.</p><p>For those not familiar with those characters and their canon actions in the AB verse, be advised the rape tags apply specifically to them, their actions, and their forcing others to participate in things including rape, murder, graphic violence and sadism, and the creation of porn and snuff films.</p><p>I will be putting up warnings on the specific chapters where these actions or events take place on the page, though there won't be a rape scene it will be implied, otherwise they will be referenced on a near-continual basis as dealing with them is the main plot of this story.</p><p>Disclaimer:  This story is a work of fanfiction.  The characters of Harry Potter and the Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter franchises are the property of their authors/owners.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Honor Bound</b> </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Chapter One: Honor Bound</b>
</p><p>
  <em> “The Ulfric of the Thronnos Rokke pack is here…” </em>
</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em> Five Days Ago; Shawnee National Forest </em>
</p><p>Verne Johnson, Ulfric of the Oak Tree Pack for longer than most of the fifty-two souls he was alpha over had been werewolves to begin with, looked up as the soft padding of paws on summer-shriveled undergrowth reached his ears.</p><p>To anyone who didn’t know him or his reputation, it would seem a great oddity: an Ulfric edging on towards his golden years of retirement and vacation homes.</p><p>Wolves like the rest of shifter kind, followed <em> strength </em> after all, and most would question what kind of strength a man whose knees creaked when he stood up too fast had to offer a pack unless it was as an advisor after stepping down to allow a younger alpha to lead.</p><p>Others might pass it off as due to the small size of his pack compared to the big ‘uns that were spoken of in whispers if spoken of at all.</p><p>Like the one his visitor headed on out in St. Louis, Missouri: the Thronnos Rokke Pack, one of the oldest packs to call the good ol’ U.S. of A. home and predating white settlers by a wide margin.</p><p>Marcus Fletcher in the flesh and fur, and one of Verne’s greatest success stories.</p><p>You see, what most folks don’t know about salt-and-pepper haired Verne, or Ulfric Grandpappy as some of the pups think he doesn’t know they call him, was that even he in all his weathered glory led his pack through strength.</p><p>It was just one of a different kind than that of strict blood and brute and claws.</p><p>No, Verne’s power was and has always <em> been </em> in his flawless control and use of a werewolf’s <em> metaphysical </em> strengths, not their purely physical ones.</p><p>He could call up <em> munin</em>, the spirits of dead packmates and the protectors of the pack, clean and quick as a whistle.</p><p>And with those of the right proclivity, he could teach them to do some of the same.</p><p>Now, he’d never expected Marcus, who’d always been a bit too smart for his own good long before he’d gotten a full ride scholarship to medical school, to use what Verne taught him to rise quite so high as the Rock Throne, but he couldn’t say he minded it either.</p><p>In the last ten years, the ruling pack of St. Louis had become the firmest and best of his allies and friends, with a bit of an exchange program set up to allow members to study away from home without having to find a new pack altogether.</p><p>Normally, Verne would’ve expected that this was another of those meetings, maybe about his <em> freki, </em> the pack’s third in command, who was another one who was often too smart and up-himself for his own good.</p><p>But for that kinda meeting, Verne didn’t expect Marcus to come alone - hell, as the Thronnos Rokke Ulfric, Verne didn’t expect him to <em> ever </em> travel alone - or to request that Verne bring Victor with him.</p><p>Which was a whole new kettle of fish.</p><p>That Marcus had been having trouble with his lupa who also acted as his <em> bolverk, </em> a wolf who dealt out the punishments to the pack that Marcus didn’t have the heart or stomach to handle himself whatever the case may be, was no secret to those who actually knew the <em> man </em> behind the titles.  There were only a coupla ways that Verne could see Victor helping with that tangled-to-hell situation.  And none of them ended this meeting with Victor remaining as a member of Verne’s pack.</p><p>And where Victor went, his sweet - but holy shit was she vicious when provoked - wife Estelle went with him, as neither of them would allow politics to keep ‘em apart and woe betide the Ulfric who tried.</p><p>If there was a better deterrent against some-a Marcus’s alpha wolves gettin’ <em> ideas </em> ‘bout taking out their Ulfric and ascending the Rock Throne, Verne couldn’t think of one than putting a big-ass roadblock in the form of an alpha wolf who stood almost seven feet tall <em> in his human form </em> and was almost as large as Marcus when each-a them were in their warrior forms, the perfect blending of man and wolf.</p><p>The funny part was, if Verne ever told some young ‘un with up-jumped ideas that of the two it was <em> Marcus </em> that would kill ya in a blink of an eye and a swipe of massive claws, not one-a them would believe him.</p><p>Not until they saw it for themselves anyway.</p><p>That Marcus rarely ever took on his warrior form was likely part-a the reasonin’ behind his latest bout of troubles.</p><p>Verne couldn’t say as he blamed him.  That much change in form into his warrior form had to be worse than changin’ into a wolf and wasn’t half so natural.  Even with the help of <em> munin </em> easin’ things along gaining a coupla hundred pounds of muscle and bone and claw at the same time as what he had shifted and changed and grew fur was a special thing.</p><p>And like alotta special things, it came with a heavy burden, layin’ up Marcus from soreness and exhaustion soemtimes for days afterward and puttin’ a target on his back in the process.</p><p>Much easier ta jus’ form the claws and tear outta throat than go whole hog on an idiot.</p><p>At least in Verne’s opinion, anywise.</p><p>Naw, Victor with his long history and years of friendship with Marcus before he went off ta college and moved to St. Louis would be the <em> perfect </em> smokescreen between the Ulfric and his challengers.</p><p>And if that big bastard of an alpha werewolf don’ give ‘em pause, then Ms. Estelle surely will.</p><p>Victor would just ring their bells and call it even when they woke back up with little tweety birds circlin’ their dumbass heads.</p><p>Ms. Estelle would poison ‘em all slow and easy like until they forgot what it was to enjoy solid foods and then kick their asses six ways to Sunday.</p><p>Creative and <em> terrifyin’ </em> that was the mate of big ol’ soft-hearted Victor.</p><p>She was a born <em> bolverk </em> or Verne was a monkey’s uncle but in a pack as well-established and comfortable as theirs, there wasn’t a need for a <em> bolverk </em> nor was Verne the sort who either couldn’t or wouldn’t hand out <em> all </em> of the punishments his wolves needed.</p><p>The only question remainin’ then was: just how much Verne was going to bleed from Marcus to allow the young fool to make off with two of Verne’s pack members.</p><p>Both in replacements <em> and </em> in cash.</p><p>Posh doctor like Marcus should be willing to part with <em> plenty </em> of the latter for Verne’s pack scholarship fund.</p><p>After all, it was the exact same fund that sent him off ta college more’an a dozen years ago.</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em> Present; Beneath Circus of the Damned </em>
</p><p>Jean-Claude, the reigning vampire Master of the City for St. Louis as of a handful of hours prior, held out his hand to his human servant Hari “Harry” Potter as one of his loyal vampire subordinates waited just inside the door for the pair to rise and see to their latest round of <em> guests. </em></p><p>Harry had been a surprise to Jean-Claude, albeit a thus far much-enjoyed one.</p><p>Were Jean-Claude given to religious fancies, he’d go so far as to say that Harry was a gift from the Mother of Darkness who to many vampires was part myth, part deity, and every inch the penultimate Queen of their kind for all that she’d been sleeping and unseen for centuries.</p><p>Arriving only a few weeks before in St. Louis in search of his godfather Sirius Black, one of Jean-Claude’s most valued contractors as a purveyor of magical protections, Harry had proceeded whether by accident or design to utterly <em> upend </em> the status quo of the city.  His timing had been both uncanny and to some highly suspect as it coincided with a spate of vampire murders that had left many at a loss for how they’d been accomplished.  His legitimate and blatant joy at reuniting with Sirius - the events leading to their separation still a mystery to the citizens of the city whether human or preternatural - had convinced some but not all of his innocence in the matter.</p><p>Not that others’ opinions mattered any longer as it had taken all of a single meeting between Harry and the then-Master of the City Nikolaos to push Harry all-but-headlong into Jean-Claude’s arms, with an attack on Sirius later that same night sending him full-steam and furious running into negotiating his acceptance of Jean-Claude’s marks and taking up the position as his human servant.</p><p>Jean-Claude’s marks in turn granted Harry the authority under vampire law and tradition to tear through the former-Master’s lair in search of Jean-Claude when he’d been taken and almost single-handedly acted to replace Nikolaos with Jean-Claude.</p><p>That Nikolaos had taken the same necromancer into her service who was killing the master vampires who <em> should </em> have been under her protection <em> and </em> had been the reason Sirius came within a breath of death meant that even her remaining - few as they numbered after Jean-Claude was done <em> cleaning house </em> before the vampires of the city rose for the night - loyalists would have a near-impossible time demanding any sort of punishment against Harry for his actions. After all: in vampire society, a human servant <em>was</em> their vampire for all intents and purposes. From them came their authority and from them their status and power in vampire society. To demand that Harry be punished for his actions would be tantamount to <em> open rebellion</em> against Jean-Claude's new rule. And not one of the remaining vampires from among Nikolaos's supporters were either strong or dumb enough to risk their existences over such a long-protected part of vampire society. That more than <em>one</em> member of the Vampire Council retained a human servant of their own was likely a large part of their reticence if they didn't yet fear Jean-Claude or Harry on their own accord.</p><p>The bond between himself and Harry was new, only a few nights old, but already it was strong enough to allow Jean-Claude to ignore the pull of the sun and his daily death - at least for a time.</p><p>Time that was precious as it was these first nights and days that would mark just what sort of Master of the City Jean-Claude was inclined to be.</p><p>A matter that affected more than just his vampires but also every man, woman, and child who lived inside his territory no matter their species as where the Master led, the rest of the preternatural followed with little exception - which depending on the Master could have catastrophic or horrific results for humans and the preternatural alike.</p><p>Already Jean-Claude had secured an alliance with the largest group of shifters in the City, the Dark Crown Rodere, in no large part due to the romantic relationship between his Harry and the alpha wererat king, or Rom, Rafael.  A move which would send a signal to the rest of the shifters that he would not be inclined to ignore them as Nikolaos had become once she failed to secure the same by trying to bind Rafael to her as her animal to call.  The Rodere had grown strong in number while Nikolaos had allowed them to grow, an allowance she had not given to the rest of the shifter groups in the city unless such occurred via accident, and their approval - however tentative at the moment - would hold significant sway with the rest.</p><p>Equal in importance was Jean-Claude’s ability to succeed in another area where Nikolaos had failed: taking a member of the Thronnos Rokke pack as his animal to call as while Nikolaos was <em> supposed </em> to have control over rats, Jean-Claude <em> did </em> have the ability to call and command both wolves and their shifter counterparts.</p><p>It wasn’t as cut-and-dried as simply choosing one of the pack as his animal to call as the pack itself was hinged on a precipice of a destruction of their own making.</p><p>A handful of years ago Nikolaos issued a prohibition on both vampires interfering in shifter business - unless it was her doing the interfering - as well as the shifters meddling with each others’ affairs.  Normally this wouldn’t have been a problem, considering the large populations of both vampires and shifters in St. Louis, allowing them to self-govern without interference would have been a wise and reasoned decision.  But, with an extreme sadist in a place of high power in the Pack in Marcus’s mate and Lupa, who had in turn taken her fellow extreme sadomasochist in the wereleopard alpha and leader Gabriel for her main lover outside her mateship, it had become an open license for Raina and Gabriel to torment both the werewolves and wereleopards as well as anyone else they could get their claws into.</p><p>Hands tied by Nikolaos’s edict, both Narcissus (the Oba, or leader of the werehyena clan) and Rafael had forbidden their subordinates contact in any form with the wereleopards, who were utterly submissive to Gabriel’s will, and Raina.</p><p>For his part Jean-Claude had offered a place at his side for the most vulnerable members if Gabriel was in the mood to be reasonable, under the guise of exploiting them for his club, while to protect Jason and Stephen as two of the lowest ranked submissive wolves in his pack Marcus had given them to Jean-Claude as donors.</p><p>Jason had eventually become Jean-Claude’s most favored donor, earning the distinction of <em> pomme de sang</em>, and now it was all hanging on a razor’s edge how Marcus was going to react in the change to the status quo.</p><p>Many, <em> many </em> things had flown under the radar while Nikolaos was Master of the City not in the least due to her inability to understand physical desire and sexual needs, and not a single person with a functioning brain cell in St. Louis or who knew Jean-Claude thought that he would be equally blind or willfully ignorant.</p><p>As a result while Jean-Claude <em> knew </em> he would be leaving this meeting with the Ulfric with an animal-to-call to secure his power and alliance with their pack, it did not necessarily follow that it will be the one he was particularly interested in securing but a compromise on his part instead unless he <em> wanted </em> to make a childish mistake in the same vein as Nikolaos and insist on his choice or no one at all.</p><p>On the day of his ascension it was a mistake he couldn’t afford, and while his instincts would say to wipe the pack out and start over if they failed to give into his wishes, his own proclivities - as well as Harry’s - made that an unlikely resolution if Marcus proved <em> difficult. </em></p><p>Harry shot him an amused glance as he wiped his hands on a fine linen napkin, finished for the moment with his meal, likely having gotten the <em> tone </em> of Jean-Claude’s ponderings if not the exact thoughts themselves.</p><p>Reaching out, Harry rested his hand in Jean-Claude’s cool palm, the too-beautiful-to-be-real Master of the City pulling him up lightly and then refusing to let go by tangling their fingers together.</p><p>Which was interesting.</p><p>Where with Rafael, Harry had dismissed himself in an attempt - however futile - to keep politics out of his relationship with the Rom, Jean-Claude wanted him right front-and-center for dealing with the pack.</p><p>A flick of Harry’s fingers had their clothes pristine, removing any dirt or dust they’d collected and creases pressing flat.  Jean-Claude was wearing his customary leather-and-silk, all in white from the cavalier’s shirt with a froth of lace at the cuffs to the bottoms of his leather boots - and all of it leaving <em> nothing </em> to the imagination when it came to the vampire’s perfect face and form.  He looked like a gothic-rockstar with his blend of old and new, not that he’d ever told him so.  Harry had often thought that whatever Jean-Claude had been in life, for all his refined manners it had been something <em> physical </em> as men even back in the 1400’s - or however old the master vampire was - didn’t earn biteable biceps and cobblestone abs by playing indolent courtier.</p><p>Though Harry couldn’t deny that Jean-Claude played the gallant well, as his dozens of vases of roses and violets filling up counter space at his home could attest.</p><p>Harry’s own clothes were ink-black, including the shirt that he’d had to transfigure from one of Nikolaos’s frilly lace dresses as the one he’d put on that afternoon before storming the Circus had been an unfortunate casualty to his own showmanship and Nikolaos’s blood, the pair of them making quite the contrast.</p><p>The only relief to Harry’s monochrome look was the shine of polished steel at Harry’s hip.  Jean-Claude had been intrigued to see that Harry came armed with a rapier - his own weapon of choice when sheer strength didn’t suffice - when he attacked Nikolaos’s stronghold.  He’d yet to see Harry bare the blade, though he had seen him at work with a knife made of hardened silver, but the way he wore it - comfortable, almost as if he didn’t feel the weight at all so accustomed to it he was, was <em> vastly </em> interesting to the former cavalier.</p><p>Other than their shared black hair and curls they were a study of contrasts: Harry’s bronze skin against Jean-Claude’s moon-pale.  Deep sapphire eyes against emerald, Harry’s plethora of scars and tattoos versus Jean-Claude’s seemingly flawless (except for a cross-shaped scar over his heart) skin.  Jean-Claude was tall, at least five or six inches over Harry’s own smaller 5’6”, and he moved like a dancer nearly dripping elegance while Harry was small and lithe without Jean-Claude’s developed musculature and would be forever lean after a childhood of deprivation.  And as Jean-Claude himself had noted when Jason and several other dancers had tried to tutor Harry, he moved like a fighter on the prowl and ready to strike at any moment.</p><p>The differences weren’t only skin deep from what Harry could tell, though both of them had a healthy dose of Slytherin-esque survivalism and self-preservation.  Of the two of them however, Harry would readily admit that Jean-Claude seemed to be the more cunning and calculating if the way he connived his way into Master of the City was any sign.</p><p>Harry was very much a Gryffindor still in many ways.</p><p>His belief in the best defense being a fast, punishing offense was definitely one of them.</p><p>The first thing Harry noticed as he and Jean-Claude stepped into the main cavern of the underground stronghold - Jean-Claude was planning to repurpose it into an actual <em> comfortable </em> reception room instead of the throne room Nikolaos had used it for, but it wasn’t quite there yet still barren except for the dais and the Louis XIV chair Harry had transfigured out of Nikolaos’s throne, the precious stones that the latter had been studded with carefully removed and given to Jean-Claude in the process - was that not all of the vampires from the first round of blood-oaths had left.</p><p>Aligned as guards - one vampire to a wererat, who must have come with Rafael or arrived since though Harry’s boyfriend had left to handle giving the Rodere news of the transition himself before going to check on Sirius for him - were a handful of vampires Harry recognized and a few he didn’t, the same with the wererats.</p><p>A couple of the vampires were young but strong like Dave, a friend of Sirius’s who owned Dead Dave’s Bar and Grill a few blocks from the Circus of the Damned, or Buzz who normally played bouncer at Jean-Claude’s main business and moneymaker the vampire strip club <em> Guilty Pleasures. </em></p><p>Others with just a glance Harry could tell were <em> not </em> young at all, including a pretty female at least a century old and a master with it with wavy pale blonde hair that made him think of what Draco Malfoy would’ve looked like as a female.</p><p>Down to the eyes that were vicious when turned on Harry and adoring at Jean-Claude.</p><p>It was a clear show of power, especially as from what Harry could tell of the <em> flavor </em> of Jean-Claude’s thoughts, he hadn’t truly started gathering power to him yet merely worked to consolidate what was already in the city.</p><p>There was going to be an influx of Jean-Claude’s vampire allies from elsewhere in the next few years or Harry was a wrackspurt.</p><p>Marcus hadn’t arrived in a position of weakness <em> either </em> as the combined power of the werewolf auras almost knocked Harry’s Occlumency shields to pieces under the onslaught before he tightened them, having allowed them to grow lax as he kept the bond between himself and Jean-Claude opened wide.</p><p>He’d have to work on that.</p><p>The bond was a clear advantage they couldn’t ignore for all that it had allowed him a bit of peace to wrap his head around what he’d done in taking Jean-Claude’s marks, but if he had to weaken his shields to fully use it 24/7 that was going to be a problem as his mental shields were one of his greatest defenses and protections around vampires and - it seemed - a certain level of shifter alike.</p><p>Marcus was an interesting specimen.  He was the smallest physically of the wolves except for Jason at five-eight and had the strong legs of a runner married to the shoulders and deep V-shaped torso and sculpted arms of a swimmer which were shown to advantage - for once - in clinging t-shirt under a leather motorcycle jacket with designer jeans and motorcycle boots instead of his normal “work” attire of crisp suits with or without either a jacket or a lab coat.</p><p>Of the others in the room the only people shorter were Harry and Jason, who was peering around with a bit of childlike excitement that had a tinge of amused indulgence lighting up Harry’s bond with Jean-Claude a warm blush pink-peach.  That was nice to know, that Jean-Claude’s affection for his pomme was genuine and not a rote part of his gallant persona.</p><p>Even the pair of female wolves were imposing in their statuesque height with their smooth but impressive musculature that looked like their thighs could crack Harry’s skull like a walnut - but for the older female who stood like Athena given life with mocha skin and tight ringlets of her natural hair, it would be a death <em> worth it </em> in Harry’s opinion.</p><p>At first glance it made it easy to dismiss the Ulfric despite his well-maintained good looks.</p><p>If, that was, all the people looking were using were their <em> eyes </em> to see.</p><p>For someone like Harry, who’d taken more and more to scanning everyone he met with his magical sight runes activated, it was like staring into the depths of the sun: blinding and searing to the eye, with the rest of the wolves - and even the rats whose power was different-but-similar - mere candle flames or bonfires in comparison.</p><p>Other than Marcus the only wolves Harry recognized were Stephen and Jason, both dancers from <em> Guilty Pleasures </em> working for Jean-Claude but he was starting to understand that comparing either of the sweet, playful wolves to their alphas was like comparing a fuzzy puppy to a prehistoric direwolf.</p><p>There were surface resemblances and some of the instincts were the same but by no means would you fear a pup the way you would the grown direwolf.</p><p>Nor would the pup be able to do the same amount of sheer <em> damage </em> as the direwolf, so there was that too.</p><p>Harry paid close attention as Marcus went through his introductions, filing away the names and faces and drawing a few conclusions that he was starting to wish he wasn’t at the same time.</p><p>Chief among them being that he had <em> vastly </em> underestimated how complex and at times convoluted shifter social dynamics, politics, and their society in general was.</p><p>On Marcus’s right was a massive man who was maybe even taller than Storr, the Sergeant of RPIT, the Regional Preternatural Investigation Taskforce, that Sirius worked with at times and Harry had mentally dubbed “Sgt. Bearpaws” for the size of his hands when they’d first met.  Storr didn’t have to bend down to enter rooms, but it was a near thing.  <em> This </em> man - wolf - however likely did, or had to enter them sideways, being a true giant of a man though still not as large as Hagrid.  His head was shiny as an eight-ball and his skin dark like coffee.</p><p>Marcus called him Victor, and his position or title as <em> Geri </em> which it seemed everyone but <em> Harry </em> knew the meaning of, though Jean-Claude was quick to provide it.</p><p>Victor the Geri was Marcus’s second in the pack and his right-hand.</p><p>And apparently according to Jean-Claude’s commentary a new addition as he’d never met him or the female to Marcus’s left, where only moments before Marcus’s arrival Jean-Claude would’ve said he knew every member of the pack by name and face if not actual acquaintance.</p><p>On Victor’s right was the <em> Freki, </em> or third, a big beautiful man whose face was ruined by his scowl that came off as petulant and not imposing, named Richard whose height and musculature would be impressive next to literally <em> anyone else </em> but Victor.</p><p>To Marcus’s left was the strange female, introduced as Estelle between whose thighs Harry would happily die, who was at least six feet tall <em> without </em> the help of her spike-heeled leather boots.</p><p>Estelle-the-stunning was the pack <em> bolverk</em>, another new phrase for Harry that was apparently the official punisher of the pack which managed to kill Harry’s interest in the cradle along with him being able to finally see some of the bonds between them after tuning out the white-noise of their metaphysical presence and note that she shared a strong one with Victor.</p><p>Harry would keep his head and his balls intact rather than risk irritating <em> either </em> of them by flirting with the lovely goddess of a werewolf, thanks.</p><p>A wise decision if Jean-Claude’s amused agreement was any sign, along with his caution as they were - high in the pack or not - strangers who would need watching before either of them made <em> any </em> overtures of that sort and even that depended on if they were the kind of mates who sought partners outside of their mateship.</p><p>Something about their bond had Harry thinking not, but he wasn’t experienced enough yet with reading bonds between shifters to know what it was he was picking up on that had him thinking that.</p><p>Next to Estelle was the <em> hati </em> or second main enforcer of the pack, a lovely Chinese man with spiky black hair similar to Harry’s own undercut named Shang-Da.</p><p>That that side of the room held who Harry would pick as the biggest direct threat in the pair of Dave - who still carried pistols rather than rely on vampire strength and speed - and a member of the Rodere that Harry kept a careful distance from named Bobby Lee, as well as the pissy looking blonde master-level vampire was likely no accident, since as Harry understood it while the <em> hati and skoll </em> were enforcers their main job in the pack was to play bodyguard for the Ulfric.</p><p>Nor was that directly <em> behind </em> Marcus was the <em> skoll, </em> for first enforcer, a well-built man with coffee skin that was almost an exact match for Victor’s with cornrows and braids pulled back in a tail threatening to brush his waist named Jamil, protecting his Ulfric’s flank.</p><p>Everyone of those with named positions had auras stronger than all the rest of the pack that Marcus had brought for the audience, and Harry would bet a backrub from Rafael that they were what was called <em> alpha shifters </em> who could force a partial shift such as claws or fangs despite the rest of them remaining nominally human.</p><p>Behind the alphas were three much lower-level wolves based on their auras and behavior: Stephen, Jason, and a female Harry hadn’t met before who was introduced as Rashida who was pretty enough but nothing to write home about other than her coke-bottle curves that several of the wererats standing guard seemed to appreciate if the covert glances were any sign.</p><p>All of the wolves were dressed the same as Marcus except for lacking a jacket in black shirts, jeans, and boots, making a unified if monochrome image.</p><p>Estelle was the only exception in her mini-dress, but if any idiot ignored the threat she was just <em> breathing </em> because she was in a skirt that cut off at mid-thigh and stiletto boots, they deserved to have their head torn off and handed to them before thanking her for the privilege.</p><p>At last Marcus was done with the introductions and as Aubrey had noted was absent his lupa, or mate, which had all kinds of questions percolating in his mind.</p><p>Especially with the way everyone he knew in St. Louis - including Sirius - tended to skirt, dance around, or flat-out change the subject when she came up.</p><p>At this point, Harry didn’t even know her <em> name </em> for all that he could literally <em> see </em> her effect on others just from looking at the bond that was poisoning Marcus and had been for who-knew-how-long.</p><p>And not just him, even as he watched quietly at Jean-Claude’s side leaning against the right side of his throne-that-wasn’t, he could track fraction by fraction as the taint from whoever this lupa was leeching from her bond to Marcus into the wolves on his left and right.</p><p>New wolves to the pack, whose new bonds were almost pristine compared to the ones hooked into the other wolves.</p><p>In fact, Harry would be willing to make a stab at determining how close the lupa was to each member and how long their bonds had existed now that he had arguably the most and least contaminated wolves standing in front of him.</p><p>“<em>Bienvenue à tous,” </em> Jean-Claude greeted them after Marcus finished his part of the formalities.  “For the lovely new faces among you: I am Jean-Claude, the Master of St. Louis.  This,” he held out a hand once more to his little monster, Harry following his cue flawlessly.  While it flew in the face of much he knew - little as that was - about the younger male, all throughout the ceremonies he’d been present for thus far his behavior with a mental explanation here or there from Jean-Claude had been so effortlessly precise and fitting.  But then, this was hardly the first time he’d found hidden depths to his priceless treasure of a human servant.  “Is <em> mon petit sorcier, </em>Hari Potter.”</p><p>As everyone seemed to do without fail, Jean-Claude introduced him with the Tamil pronunciation of his proper name rather than the Anglicized version of it, leaving it to Harry, as always, to allow them the familiarity of it.</p><p>Harry settled for tilting his head to the side, Marcus responding a beat later:</p><p>“We’ve met, Master Jean-Claude.”</p><p>“The Ulfric kept my godfather alive,” Harry said idly, as if everyone in the room wasn’t already well-aware of that, before Marcus could use it in some gambit preferable to him rather than to Harry or Jean-Claude.  “I promised him a debt before I took your marks, <em> inamorato, </em> though terms of such were offered, I have yet to learn if they were acceptable to Dr. Fletcher.”</p><p>Not an ounce of Jean-Claude’s surprise at the pet name Harry had gifted him - with more than a bit of an ironic twist to it as while their bond is eternal neither of them would call it <em> love </em> - as an alternative to master or milord or any other term that would put Jean-Claude above him, showed outside of their bond.</p><p>Harry felt it however, as Jean-Claude felt first the irony Harry pointedly <em> didn’t </em> kiss the word with as it left his lips and then the amusement at his surprise.</p><p>Oh yes, his little sorcerer <em> was </em> quite the monster, but he would keep the world from slipping into drudgery as he kept Jean-Claude alert and on his toes as the years passed, so he found more and more that rather than being irritated with Harry’s irreverent, bold nature he enjoyed it.</p><p>Especially when it was pointed at someone <em> other </em> than himself.</p><p>“Terms that I would like further explanation of.”  Marcus countered, arching a brow.  “As in turn the terms that Thronnos Rokke will offer for our alliance with the Master of the City will depend on the specifics of that debt being paid.”</p><p>Most of the audience but Marcus and Harry - and through Harry, Jean-Claude as he mentally asked and was answered regarding the terms Harry had set - were lost at the careful wordplay, which was precisely as Marcus wanted them to be.</p><p>If Harry <em> couldn’t </em> do what he’d promised, Marcus couldn’t afford for Raina to be alerted in any way, shape, or form that he was making moves to... <em> neutralize </em> her and her authority in <em> his </em> pack.</p><p>Her ability to wield <em> munin </em> rivaled his own due to his own early naivete with teaching her his skills, a bit of bonding and trusting and nurturing their mateship that he regretted more than anything, including mating her in the first place <em> and </em> allowing her bloodlust and sadism to grow unchecked for so long.</p><p>But if <em> Harry</em>, the human servant of the Master of the City, could <em> truly </em> break her mating bond to Marcus, <em> then </em> he had options that arose from that linchpin action.</p><p>Options that were much <em> cleaner </em> for the pack than how he would have to rid himself of her taint otherwise.</p><p>And after the asskicking Verne, Estelle, <em> and </em> Victor had given over allowing it free rein in the first place and turning a blind eye to Raina’s <em> proclivities </em> while burying his head both up his own ass and in his work at the hospital while his pack suffered, he <em> would </em> rid himself of it or he had a feeling Estelle would kill him herself, take the Rock Throne, and then feast on Raina’s heart for dessert.</p><p>She’d do it too.</p><p>Victor would mourn him and be upset for a time over her killing his longtime friend but in the end they <em> were </em> wolves.</p><p>He’d get over it and serve as the most loyal <em> Geri </em> to ever Geri that there had ever been under his beloved mate and wife, despite her theoretical-coup’s toll on their marriage and mateship.</p><p>Harry glanced at Jean-Claude who nodded and waved his hand elegantly in wordless permission.</p><p>“I can do as I said.”  Harry chose his words just as carefully as Marcus.  “There will be pain for both parties, the severity depending on the person and the condition of the <em> underlying issue, </em> with the possibility of an <em> episode </em> for the source of the contagion.”</p><p>Jean-Claude’s approval floated through their bond, Harry almost smiling in response but tucking it away for the moment.</p><p>Marcus nodded regally, then turned his ice-blue gaze on Jean-Claude.</p><p>“Then let us discuss our own terms, Master to Ulfric.”  At that the wolves on either side of him seemed to get a silent signal and all seemed to loosen up from their tensed and ready postures.  The guard at his back remained ready-and-waiting, but if the bright sunshine smile Jason gave Harry was any sign, he’d told Marcus what he wanted to hear.</p><p>Good to know.</p><p>When people were trapped in toxic situations, you never knew whether they’d react positively or negatively to someone offering to help them climb out of the pit.</p><p>Harry knew that all too well, having ignored more than one well-meaning offer to help get him away from the Dursleys after the first one ended with nothing but the entire neighborhood thinking him a lying degenerate at all of six years old.</p><p>…</p><p>In the end Harry wasn't <em> thrilled </em> that the alliance between Jean-Claude and Marcus came down to his ability to keep his word - or that Marcus had doubted his honor, however obliquely - but he couldn’t say that he hadn’t set himself up for it.</p><p>Like a lot of consequences he was currently dealing with at least half (three-quarters if he was feeling particularly self-flagellating) were his own fault for charging ahead before he knew the entire lay of the land.</p><p>That he had a feeling that <em> Sirius </em> didn’t know all the ins-and-outs of the supernatural world of their new home didn’t exactly inspire a rush of confidence in his ability to <em> not </em> stumble headfirst into a political or social faux pas every other week.</p><p>At least if things got <em> truly </em> intolerable he always had the scorched earth solution, even if that was precisely the <em> last </em> corner he ever wanted to get backed into.</p><p>With the dawn and the other vampires going to rest plus the arrival of more wererats to handle security with Jason, Stephen, and surprisingly enough to Harry, Shang-Da who would be in charge of Jean-Claude’s protection and security during the day until the master vampire figured out who of the various shifters who would likely vie for the position of Head of Day Security he preferred, to keep an eye on things, Jean-Claude actually went to rest.</p><p>Not without Harry layering several wards and alarms and protections over the room the master vampire was claiming as his own, but while Jean-Claude realized he <em> could </em> remain awake and aware via Harry’s magic, he didn’t want to strain their bond with the marks being so new.</p><p>Logical, since with as fast as everything had happened - and showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon - they hadn’t had a chance to practice with the marks.</p><p>Merely taken things as they came, which couldn’t last forever, especially as they didn’t know their limits yet.</p><p>With his duty discharged for the moment - and earning him more than one heated or appreciative look or brush of emotion from Jean-Claude - Harry waited for him to sink into his daily death before leaving the room and spelling it against <em> anyone </em> being allowed inside.</p><p>Even Jason as Jean-Claude’s <em> pomme</em>, at least until Jean rose again with the sunset.</p><p>Harry had a feeling that Jamil’s visits would end up being as temporary as possible with the way his nose wrinkled at the sight of Harry and Jean’s apparent relationship or how he sneered - despite how discrete the wolf likely thought he was being - at Jason and Stephen who at present were playfully fighting over their choice of rooms elsewhere in the caverns.</p><p>It was all in fun, Harry knew, as like him Jason would have a room in Jean-Claude’s private suite, being either the human servant or <em> pomme de sang </em> of the Master of the City.</p><p>If he was reading the byplay correctly, the play was a ruse to keep the female submissive wolf named Rashida from taking on airs or trying to worm her way closer to Jean than Stephen, as the two males were - apparently, he could be wrong - lower on the pack hierarchy than the female.  Which might have something to do with why/how they came to be attached to Jean and the club in the first place.  Maybe.</p><p>Regardless, all three of the submissives including the new “offering” of Rashida were to take on the role of being Jean’s blood donors, roles that Jason and Stephen at least already filled, with Shang-Da playing head of security, all as a show of good-faith between Marcus and Jean-Claude until Harry fulfilled his part of the alliance by breaking the Ulfric’s bond to his Lupa.</p><p>From what he was picking up in the undertones and subtext, as well as watching the other vampires and weres present for the negotiations, it was a <em> much </em> better deal than had originally been expected for Marcus to offer and given Harry’s part in it raised his profile to those who were in the know regarding his status and place in Jean’s court.</p><p>Feeling the drain of the last two days and night without rest, Harry moved to the small room - more like an eight-by-eight box - that had been Burchard’s before he cleared it out during the long negotiation between Jean-Claude and Rafael.</p><p>Balancing between them was going to be <em> fun</em>, he could just tell.</p><p>Pursing his lips at the plain stone walls and iron-banded oak door, Harry cast a ward that would keep everyone and anyone out of the room before sinking an apparation marker into the center of the plain floor.</p><p>He didn’t see any reason for him to keep separate quarters at Jean-Claude’s court, not with his comfortable home just an apparation away, but a protected place to come-and-go <em> that </em> would be useful.</p><p>He’d just have to remember to not block himself out on accident when he and Sirius put up wards on the Circus and court - but that was a problem for another day.</p><p>For now, he locked the picture of the side of his back sundeck with it’s protective pergola that he’d chosen for a similar purpose at home in his mind's eye, then spun on his heel and was gone with a <em> crack </em> and a text message to Shang-Da as soon as he landed miles away.</p><p>The warmth of his home wards wrapped around him, Harry <em> feeling </em> as all the tension of the fraught time since he last slept sloughing away.</p><p>A feeling that redoubled when he opened his back door and smiled at the sight of Rafael pushing up from the couch where he’d been clearly asleep while waiting for him to get home only a moment before.</p><p>Alerted no doubt by the soft crack that heralded Harry’s magical comings and goings.</p><p>Rafael took one look at his exhausted boyfriend and shelved everything he’d wanted to talk to him about for after he rested, moving over to his side and ignoring all of Harry’s mumbled protests as he chivvied him up the stairs and into his bed.</p><p>“Sirius is well, still asleep.”  Rafael could tell by the pattern of his breathing.  “Dr. Lillian made sure he had all of his potions and liquids and meals on time and that his wounds are healing cleanly if faster than she’s ever seen on a human.”</p><p>Which was a thing Rafael had noticed for himself about Harry, with or without their magical tonics but had shrugged off as part of their nature.</p><p>Now that he knew there was a way for them to amplify it even <em> more</em>, well, he’d leave that line of questioning to Lillian despite his own rampant curiosity.</p><p>There wasn’t much that could hurt or harm a were after all, but they weren’t invulnerable.</p><p>If the pair could - or maybe it was more a matter of <em> would </em> - heal things like scars from silver on shifters or holy items on vampires, it would make them the most popular magical people around.</p><p>“Rest,” Rafael followed Harry down with good grace when his suddenly snuggly boyfriend refused to let go, swiftly arranging them so Harry was tucked into him with Rafael between the wizard and the door.  “Sirius and the Rodere are both well.  I’ve got this.”</p><p>Without further protest, and feeling a rush of affection for the Rom, Harry just cuddled in more firmly against Rafael’s side, allowing the wererat to shelter him - for the moment - from the storm that was building in St. Louis at the sudden change in regime and the abrupt and sudden <em> shift </em> in power as everyone scrambled to catch up.</p><p>Some more furiously - or frantically - than others.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fluff ahead; I'm also not going to be continually warning about smut.  At this point it should just be taken as a given that there's going to be smut and/or sexual situations going forward throughout this series.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Honor Bound</b> </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Chapter Two: Technicolor Beat</b>
</p><p>With the bond opened between them, Harry didn’t startle when his dreams shifted from a pleasant memory of flying through the clouds to the tidy rows of sun-drenched flower fields that had fashioned what little of Jean-Claude’s mindscape he’d seen after taking the master vampire’s fourth mark.</p><p>It was more fleshed out, still not entirely the same as an Occlumense’s mind palace but the bones of it were there in what Harry thought was the skeleton of an elegant French manor house and the cultivated fields brimming with lavender bushes, blackberry brambles, rose hedges, and wildflowers of all kinds.  The sky above them was blush pink with tinges of dark purple and blue over head and bright yellow at the edge of the mental horizon: a sunrise.  Given what little he knew about Jean-Claude’s background, he’d hypothesize that he - <em> they</em>, as Jean-Claude drew his attention with the press of his mental hand to the small of Harry’s back - were standing before Jean’s childhood home or perhaps another place of importance from when the vampire was still a mortal man.</p><p>“Your gift to me through the marks, <em> mon petit monstre.” </em>  Jean-Claude told him, waving a hand expansively across the rolling fields and the manor-house-to-be.  “Vampire memories are prodigious, but none I have known have ever spoken of such a vivid internal landscape.  Most liken their minds to safes or vaults, not entire landscapes plucked from memory and given form.”</p><p>“It’s called Occlumency.”  Harry supplied, turning and facing his vampire bondmate.  “The same skill - a command of mental discipline powered by magic, so to speak - that allows myself and Sirius to resist hypnosis or other powers targeting the mind.”</p><p>That Occlumency had other benefits, such as the ability to block emotions for a time or to accurately store and recall knowledge and memories alike, he didn’t choose to share.</p><p>Jean-Claude already had superb command of his emotions, and vampires had a method of memory recall - as Jean-Claude had just said - all their own.</p><p>He simply didn’t see the point.</p><p>“Mmmm,” Jean-Claude got the impression that there was more to it but didn’t press.  Harry’s secrets could remain his own - for the moment.  They had literally all the time in the world for him to uncover them.  “How is <em> mon ami? </em>  Recovering well?”</p><p>“Better now that he’s out of the hospital and I can use magic to hurry things along.”  Harry sighed, rolling his head on his neck in an absent - and unintentional - temptation to his vampire, presenting his neck without thought or care for what it looked like to Jean-Claude.  “He’ll be itching and irritable over bedrest in another day or two, but won’t be fully healed for about a week yet.  Dr. Lillian from the Rodere has taken over keeping an eye on his care and will no doubt be pestering me relentlessly soon about magical healing and potions.”</p><p>“Ah, the indomitable Dr. Lillian,” Jean-Claude quirked a smile as he and Harry took to strolling through the lavender field surrounding them.  The memory flowers were so vivid that he could even smell their sun-warmed scent for the first time in centuries.  An unexpected boon of his bond to his little monster.  “I imagine that as soon as politics have settled down she will be doing a bit of pestering of myself as well.”</p><p>“What for?”  Off the top of his head, Harry was drawing a blank.  Unless she wanted to be contracted to one of Jean’s businesses or kept on retainer, he was at a loss over what the alpha wererat wanted with the Master of the City.  It wasn’t like he would hypnotize her a job back in the medical field.</p><p>Unfortunately one of the ugly sides to having many things supernatural out in the open was the rampant prejudice.</p><p>Healthcare was merely one of <em> many </em> fields and professions that being outed as a shifter or vampire would lose them their careers, much like law enforcement and public - or private - education.</p><p>“A free clinic for shifters.”  Jean-Claude enlightened him, glad he’d done so a moment later as Harry’s face nearly <em> lit </em> up with excitement over the idea.  “It would have to be very <em> off the books </em> and stocked from suppliers who had no idea what the purpose was, but such things can be managed.  It was getting permission and approval from the former-Master that kept her from it...openly.”</p><p>Well, openly as far as the supernatural population of the city went.  Such a clinic would have to be one of the many secrets the supernatural citizens of St. Louis kept away from the public eye.  Especially that of the police or politicians who would crack down on such an enterprise, no matter how many shifters or those related to shifters it helped, as it would be quite illegal to operate.</p><p>Fortunately for Jean-Claude’s city, neither he, Dr. Lillian, or the Rom gave a flying fuck about what the humans didn’t know when it came to taking care of their own.</p><p>“She really was fucking crazy, wasn’t she?”  Harry asked, shaking his head and referring to Nikolaos, the former Master of the City.</p><p>“Quite so.”  Jean-Claude’s tone was as dry as the Sahara in a drought.  “Mental deficiencies often occur in vampires turned before they’re fully developed - mentally or physically - and the effects can stack or compound over time.  The same for taking a too-young human servant, or so I would suspect.  Though there was a cunning to her and an eye to strategy fostered through her bond to Burchard.  A divided city couldn’t stand against her after all, at least not without a catastrophic catalyst.”  He shrugged.  “It worked - for a time.”</p><p>“How many problems are we going to be cleaning up after because of her?”  Harry asked though he half didn’t want to know.</p><p>A thought Jean-Claude shared if the rueful look the vampire cast him before fading away to return to his daily death was any sign, his answer lingering behind him.</p><p>“Far more than I care to contemplate, and for far longer than will seem reasonable.”</p><p>…</p><p>There was something <em> warm </em> in a way that had nothing to do with physical heat about waking up side-by-side with a person Harry cared about.  It had nothing to do with lust, or romantic affection.  There had been times <em> before </em> when Sirius and he would fall asleep on a settee in Grimmauld Place for an afternoon nap or Padfoot would make himself at home on top of Harry’s covers that he remembered just as fondly as the first time he’d done so after a night of epic shagging with Rafael.</p><p>It was just <em> warm </em> and cozy and satisfying in a way that sent his nerves tingling with happiness from the inside out.</p><p>Harry grumbled a little, popping open one eye, irritable at being nudged from his comfort as Rafael twisted and the covers tugged a bit off of his shoulders, sending little pinpricks of chill dancing over his skin at the coolness of the room.</p><p>Sun beat at the curtains, sending a glow of golden sunshine scattering over the pale-gold walls and dusk-wine molding, lighting up the soft cream ceiling.</p><p>At least the temperature control charms he’d embedded in every room of his home worked, the sight of that sun already had him mentally wilting at the thought of venturing out in St. Louis’s late-August heat and humidity.</p><p>“Hey,” Rafael rumbled a greeting as Harry gave into the inevitable, the Rom’s normally warm voice deepened a register from sleep.  </p><p>Reaching out, he gently pushed back the curls falling forward into Harry’s forehead, the mild-to-moderate taming Harry usually managed on a given day having been a casualty of sleep.  It was much less hair and riot than Harry’d had to manage when they first met, but by the time he’d picked up Harry for their first date the wizard had succumbed to the irritation of having longer hair in St. Louis’s climate - especially for someone born and raised in England - and chopped the majority of it off.  Now he had a <em> slightly </em> riotous mass of curls on the top of his head from forehead to the crown about three inches or so wide like a mock-mohawk only shorter with the back and sides fading in a short clipper cut to a soft cover of black <em> just </em> long enough to keep skin from showing and requiring Harry to stop into the barber every couple weeks to get it maintained.</p><p>It was curly and tousled, the only real sign of vanity he’d noticed about Harry in regards to his person, and Rafael spent more time than he’d liked to admit with hands itching to be buried and playing in it.</p><p>“Hey,” Harry smiled despite being a bit cranky which he chalked down to lingering exhaustion from pushing his limits and relying on Potions to keep going - they gave him what he needed when he needed it but <em> fuck </em> they could backlash with a hangover worse than any three day Ogden’s bender if he wasn’t careful.  </p><p>It wasn’t <em> that </em> bad this time, just a bit of not-quite-pain that let him know it was <em> there</em>, and if he’d managed a few hours more rest for his magic to recover he probably wouldn’t even feel that much of it.  Which was <em> odd </em> as last time he’d overextended himself this badly he’d felt like he’d been battered by bludgers for a couple of hours until Potions and a bath had handled it.  All of eight days ago.  That he’d pushed himself again just in different ways but was only feeling like he was on the last day of a sunburn before it fully healed...he was at a loss.</p><p>There <em> was </em> the obvious explanation.</p><p>His bond with Jean-Claude was supposed to have manifold benefits, not the least among them increased stamina and endurance.</p><p>The bond was new, only sealed a week ago now, but immediately he’d noticed Jean had started picking up on some of his mental magics, hence the mindscape that was filling out and growing.</p><p>Maybe what was manifesting for him first was the stamina?</p><p>It was as good of a guess as any, as what little he knew about the human servant-vampire bond suggested that different pairs had vastly different experiences and benefits that they gained to different extents.</p><p>A physically weaker servant drawing harder on the increased strength aspect, etc.</p><p>Harry might’ve thought more about that subject, but then Rafael was smiling with his eyes all squinty and leaning over to kiss him and Harry didn’t actually <em> think </em> about much of anything as those sculpted lips and wicked tongue sent him from warm and cuddly to hot enough to <em>burn.</em>  He knew the impression people got from him.  Flirtatious.  Indiscriminate.  Even <em>easy.</em></p><p>What they didn't realize but Rafael had somehow never doubted for a moment, was that Harry <em>did</em> have standards.  He <em>did</em> have a type of lover he preferred if they were going to be more than a one-time moment of stress relief.  And it had nothing to do with how they looked - though he'd be the first person to admit that both Rafael and Jean-Claude (for all that the vampire wasn't his lover <em>yet</em>) were unfairly gorgeous men.</p><p>He <em>knew</em> it in his blood and bone when someone would treat him well.  Part magic, part instincts honed from years in an abusive environment, Harry could pick out an abusive asshole at twenty paces.  He knew when someone was dangerous - though it never put him off.  The opposite actually.</p><p>Harry wasn't a fool, he knew he was <em>more</em> dangerous than most people walking around the planet and going about their days.  Between his power and pragmatism, he didn't have that internal mechanism that said <em>stop</em> when other people were about to lay down damage to others.  His little voice instead said: <em>take out the threat.</em></p><p><em>Dangerous</em> wasn't a turn off for Harry - it was a <em>requirement.</em>  His lovers <em>had</em> to be able to hold their own, otherwise he'd spend every waking moment losing his damn mind out of worry about whether they were safe or in danger of one kind or another.</p><p>Everything else was down to chemistry, Harry didn't see the point in wasting time where there wasn't a spark of attraction.</p><p>Life, even potential immortality, could be cut short <em>far</em> too easily to give his time to someone who was never going to <em>be</em> anything to him.  Friends were different.  Sirius was different.  But when he was considering someone to be a potential bedmate, he wasn't going to faff around <em>waiting</em> for something to develop when there were beautiful males like Rafael running around who could send him from zero to a hundred with just a look or a smile or a kiss.</p><p>A shift and a tilt of his hips had Harry on top of Rafael, straddling his hips, and grinning down naughtily as he ground down.</p><p>Rafael's smile as Harry reached out and summoned the lube and a condom from the nightstand drawer was a thing of beauty, rough workman's hands making quick work of having him prepped, spread, and then Harry was sinking down on that sizable cock.  Head tossed back, teasing the alpha with his throat, he arched with his hands braced behind him on Rafael's thick, muscled thighs.  Rafael stroked and pressed and flicked and rubbed everything he could touch as Harry panted and moaned over him, growls and hisses coming from the shifter.</p><p>Already half turned-on from waking up to sun-warmed skin and soft smiles, neither of them lasted very long, the now-familiar heat lashing out from inside Harry as he came moments after Rafael as the wererat almost <em>howled</em> and clenched his jaw tight shut, and then <em>drawing</em> their climaxes down and spiraling into him.</p><p>Harry hadn't said anything to Jean-Claude yet, but he <em>thought</em> that was similar to his <em>ardeur</em> though he couldn't say for sure as he'd only felt it the once when he took Jean-Claude's marks.</p><p>Laying forward and panting against Rafael for a long moment before the wererat repositioned him to deal with the filled condom, Harry quickly found the question of the warmth and heat that hid inside him until he was with Rafael - and on one occasion self-pleasuring in the shower when Rafael couldn't come over due to Rodere business - whisked from his mind as his lover swept him up in his strong arms and off to the bathroom to clean up.</p><p>Or for rounds two and three.</p><p>Whichever.</p><p>...</p><p>He was dressed in another set of jeans and t-shirt, feet bare, while Rafael only put on a pair of cut-offs to satisfy modesty given that they weren’t alone in the house when they both stumbled down to the kitchen for nourishment hours later.</p><p>Rafael was still squeezing water out of his own curly black hair, the two of them having found from trial and error that trying to shower together only ever led to another round of naked shenanigans - usually making use of Rafael’s wererat strength and the nearest wall - unless one of them was bone tired.  (Harry - it was always Harry.)  The wards told him that Sirius was asleep in his guest room with Dr. Lillian watching over him, which should at least buy Harry a bit of time before he had to explain to his godfather everything that had happened in the last couple nights and start making plans for how they were going to deal with the changes going forward.</p><p>Which was excellent, as he desperately needed to pick Rafael’s brain without an audience that would - no matter who they were - force his boyfriend to choose his words carefully.</p><p>The Rom moved smoothly around the kitchen as Harry made - well, it was <em> after </em> lunch time, but he wanted crepes, so… - a very late breakfast, the wizard like many people who did business or had dealings with vampires transitioning to being at least semi-nocturnal.  While Harry watched the thin sheets of batter like a hawk and his magic chopped and washed and sorted various types of fruit for toppings and set the kettle going for Harry’s tea, Rafael handled setting the table.  Moving from cupboards to fridge with ease as he set glasses and plates and utensils in their places, pouring himself of the fresh squeezed juice Harry kept on hand as a habit now that he had more and more people in and out of the house keeping Sirius company.</p><p>And increasingly to either meet and/or spend time around Harry as well.</p><p>The Rodere was <em> voraciously </em> curious about the young wizard, had been since the first as Rafael made no bones about his intention to pursue him.</p><p>Reports - well, <em> gossip </em> - from Fredo, Doug, Jimmy, even Bobby Lee - who took Harry’s wariness around him as a compliment - let alone Lillian had the rest of the Rodere even more interested if possible as Harry won their respect right and left with his ability to treat everyone exactly the same and not even bat an eye when they did something or acted on an instinct that was distinctly <em> other. </em></p><p>Like Rafael’s habit - though no one else knew about it - of either clenching hard on his jaw or biting down on a pillow when they’re fucking or making love rather than give into the urge to bite and mark Harry as his mate.</p><p>Rafael wasn’t a young freshly turned were.</p><p>He <em> knew </em> what Harry was to him.</p><p>He also knew that Harry had been tossed into a whirlwind since arriving in St. Louis and having an alpha try and stake his claim on him - and potentially turning him with it - was the last thing he needed.</p><p>Jean-Claude wasn’t the only one around capable of patience.</p><p>Little did Rafael know, but his timeline for potentially introducing Harry to even the <em> concept </em> of instinctive mating-draw was about to get blown out of the water due to the clusterfuck that was the Ulfric/Lupa situation within Thronnos Rokke.</p><p>Harry brought the platter of crepes over, moving quickly with his magic to fill two with blackberries, powdered sugar, and a spritz of lemon juice before moving to make another pair of chocolate-hazelnut spread with diced strawberries, then a savory pair with cheese and fresh herbs.  He took the perfectly made cup of tea from Rafael with a thankful smile, then not a sound was to be had other than the two of them filling their bellies.  Silverware clattered softly against stoneware plates, soft slurps of juice or tea being drank, gentle sighs of relief - from Harry - as the demanding pit in his stomach stopped grousing.</p><p>He grabbed the bowl of blackberries, dosing it with a hit of lemon juice and sugar before spooning up the mixture without a crepe, the last one disappearing onto Rafael’s plate without protest from the chef.</p><p>Jean-Claude at play via their bond, but at least Harry knew that was what was going on now where as before he’d been a bit lost over the sudden urge to eat blackberries when he tended to prefer either strawberries or a mixed berry moment instead of the seed-heavy fruit.</p><p>There were worse things, and with a simple spell he didn’t have to worry about the seeds lodging themselves into his molars, so he just went with it.</p><p>He waited until Rafael was done with his meal, the Rom just as busy from the regime change of the vampires as any other power in the city, then presented his issue that he thought his boyfriend could help him with.</p><p>“I need to know everything you can tell me about mates, mating between shifters, and the power dynamics and traditions that go along with them.”  He stated, watching carefully as Rafael set down his glass of juice with care and locked his dark gaze on him with laser-like focus.  “Wolves to start, but I think I’m going to need all of it eventually.”  His mouth twisted into a grimace.  “I’m tired of playing catch-up Rafa.”  He told him plainly.  “It’s like everyone else is playing by a set of rules while I’m having to fumble around in the dark with my training from <em> before </em> and hope I don’t drown or get an innocent killed.”</p><p>“Why do you need to know about mates, specifically?”  Rafael asked, mind rapidly working to try and figure out which of his Rodere he needed to discipline for having loose lips around Harry.</p><p>Harry chose his words with great care, getting the idea that his request was more fraught with Rafael than he’d intended it to be.</p><p>It made sense to him, going straight to a resource he could trust and who knew about the topic from a personal perspective instead of an academic one like Sirius or Jean-Claude, but the way Rafael’s face had turned to stone made him think that there was a whole lot more to the topic than a way to formalize relationships between shifters.</p><p>“It has to do with the debt I owe, Marcus.”  Harry said slowly.  “Our agreement prevents me from giving out the specifics until my part of it is completed.  I <em> can </em> say that the Ulfric has invited me to perform a magical act at the Lupanar on the New Moon.”</p><p>Which as said New Moon was only a few nights off, his need-to-know-<em>now </em> was self-evident as while Rafael didn’t <em> know </em> from Harry’s words what he’d be doing for Marcus at that place and time, his knowledge about Raina Wallis and the moves Marcus had made recently to limit her power both within and outside of the Pack gave him a damn good idea of what Marcus was up to and needed from Harry.</p><p>Specifically, from Harry’s known magical abilities.</p><p>“He’s getting rid of his Lupa.”  Rafael stated with a vicious grin, satisfaction sparking in his eyes as he sat back in the kitchen chair.</p><p>Harry arched a brow in interest.  Wow.  He’d gotten the hint that no one was <em> fond </em> of the Lupa, but damn.  That was above and beyond having <em> issues </em> with her and straight into the land of wouldn’t-piss-on-her-if-she-was-on-fire territory.</p><p>“Can neither confirm nor deny.”  Harry chirped, shrugging shamelessly when Rafael rolled his eyes.  “But if he <em> was</em>, what does that mean, what’s the backlash, what’s the outcome, how does that whole Lupa thing even <em> work,</em>” he asked in a rush, almost babbling in frustration.</p><p>He hadn’t lied after all.  There was so much he just <em> didn’t know. </em>   Worse, it was looking more and more like he didn’t even know <em> what he didn’t know </em> existed.  He couldn’t learn and avoid fallout like ending up magically bonded for <em> all eternity </em> to a master vampire if he didn’t know what his other options were.</p><p>Harry still didn’t regret it.</p><p>He also, in hindsight, wished that when or if he’d gotten to that point with Jean-Claude it had been out of some other drive or desire than mere political expediency - on both their parts - no matter how much he still wanted to climb Jean like a tree.</p><p>“Well,” Rafael rasped the edges of his short fingernails over his stubble.  “To start with a Lupa and an Ulfric’s mate are the same thing.  Same with the Rom and Romina of the Rodere.  Either can be male or female or gender neutral, or,” he twirled one hand in the air in an “and so on” gesture.  “It’s about the position not anything else.  Leopards are different, they have three different types of alpha designations and the big one for their, well, <em> monarch </em> of Nimir has another three differentiations depending on how their pard views them.  Anyway,” Rafael waved a hand ignoring how a notebook and pen had suddenly appeared at Harry’s place at the table as his boyfriend made copious notes.  </p><p>He had <em> no </em> idea how he was going to escape this conversation without lobbing a grenade at Harry’s attempt to find stability in chaos but he was going to try regardless.  </p><p>“An Ulfric’s mate is their Lupa.  They’re bound together for life, but it’s not like a “you go, I go” bond, they’ll survive the other’s death depending on how close and reliant on the mate-bond they are.  The Lupa could be the most submissive pack member or a human off the street before the bond is set but after it’s done unless they work their way up the pack ranks and hierarchy or accept that their only strength in the pack or authority comes from the Ulfric.  An Ulfric who by their very instincts is going to have their wolf killing itself to protect their Lupa and mate if they are attacked in front of them.”</p><p>“I’m starting to see how the problem persisted so long.”  Harry murmured, eyes dark with thoughts swirling around his mind.  “If the bond is for life, the only way to escape it for Marcus is…”</p><p>“Death.”  Rafael nodded.  “And if Raina was killed while <em> still </em> his mate, then he’d be honor-bound to track her killer or else he’d lose face among the other wolves to a <em> massive </em> extent.  Failing to protect their mate is the greatest shame a shifter can bring onto themselves short of failing to protect the pack or pard or clan or rodere’s young, if they have any.”</p><p>“So he couldn’t even have her assassinated.”  Harry nibbled at his lower lip, then asked his next question.  “What about divorce?”</p><p>Rafael hid a wince, Harry still unknowing regarding how that particular subject was a sensitive one for him.</p><p>“Useless in the case of Marcus and Raina since they never got married.”  He supplied.  “Not all shifters marry their mates, depending on the school of thought it’s considered redundant since mating is for life anyway.  Some do, some don’t.”  He shrugged.  “But if they want to formalize a relationship with a non-mate they’ll marry them, since not everyone meets their mate.”  Rafael searched his memory for a moment.  “Off the top of my head, I can think of around a half-dozen mated pairs in the Rodere, maybe two in the pack, none in the pard or among the stray shifters who live outside of groups, and if there <em> are </em> any in the hyena pack then Narcissus hasn’t let on about it.”</p><p>Harry let out a little whistle.  If the estimates he’d heard regarding the thousand or so shifters living and working in St. Louis were true then that was one hell of a rarity.</p><p>No wonder a lot of shifters dated and got married like humans, or were perpetual playboys/girls or stuck to open relationships if meeting a mate was such a long shot.  Especially considering how strong and insistent their sex drives were if Rafael was any benchmark for that sort of thing.</p><p>Rafael smiled indulgently at his boyfriend.  And potential mate.</p><p>“The more in touch with their instincts a shifter is, the greater the chance of noticing when they meet a potential mate.  Most shifters never gain the awareness needed to know when someone is a mate and live out their lives happily.  Better than vampires anyway, the closest thing they have, as far as I know, to formalized relationships are their <em> pomme de sangs </em> and human servants.  And you’ve seen for yourself how that can work either for or against them.”</p><p>Harry had to agree with that.  How Jean-Claude was with him - however new their bond - was lightyears away from how Nikolaos treated Burchard.  And despite how indulgent Jean was with Jason, he wouldn’t be the one to dub that relationship as anything close to an equal partnership.</p><p>He tapped his pen against his notebook, eyeing Rafael speculatively.</p><p>“Is there a particular reason why you’re dodging telling me about <em> how </em> a shifter knows a potential mate from the rest of the world?”  He asked incisively.  “Something with how you’re almost always touching me when you’re around me,” he dropped his eyes to the warm palm that had settled itself just above Harry’s knee not long after he’d sat down to eat.  “Or how it seems to take all your control to keep from biting me when you come?”</p><p>Rafael’s sun-darkened skin did <em> nothing </em> to spare him his blush as his hand <em> leapt </em> off of Harry’s leg like he’d hit it with one of the fire spells he seemed to yield effortlessly.</p><p>He groaned, burying his head into his arms on the table, his answer muffled but still decipherable despite his vivid mortification:</p><p>
  <em> “You noticed?!” </em>
</p><p>Harry stamped down <em> hard </em> on the desire to snort and roll his eyes.</p><p>“I don’t know if <em> you’ve </em> noticed.”  He answered drily.  “But my ability to keep myself alive is kinda leveraged against <em> knowing </em> when there’s a problem around me so I can counter it.  I couldn’t <em> not </em> notice the near-biting-thing even if I was enjoying the casual touches too much to really care why you were being physically affectionate.”  He paused a moment then clarified: “This isn’t a proposal by the way.  One magical bond at a time to get used to is more than enough.  I just kinda want to know if we need to have Dr. Lillian test the likelihood of my contracting lycanthropy from you if you give into the urge at some point.”</p><p><em> That </em> had Rafael unburying himself from his embarrassment to sharply eye his lover who was still sitting there cool as a cucumber despite having a discussion filled with <em> heavy </em> implications for both of them.</p><p>Not in the least of which being how the new <em> Master of the City </em> would react to his human servant picking up an alpha shifter mate at some point.</p><p>Possibly.</p><p>Maybe.</p><p>If Harry was interested and they both were ready for it.</p><p>So months if not years in the future.</p><p>“<em>Why </em> would you think you might be immune to lycanthropy?”  Rafael asked, incredulously.</p><p>Not everyone <em> turned </em> it was true.  Some people were more susceptible to different versions of the virus than others.  Some weren’t susceptible at all but they still weren’t <em> immune</em>, and definitely not without having taken a vaccine against specific strands.  Others used a different strain of the virus in an attempt to counteract an infecting strain.</p><p>But <em> never </em> had Rafael <em> ever </em> heard of someone who was just flat-out immune to any and all strains of lycanthropy, particularly wererat as it was the single most virulent of all the various strains of the virus.</p><p>“Lycanthropy is biochemical,” Harry answered with a slight shrug, radiating <em> no big deal </em> despite the fact that to Rafael it was a <em> very fucking big deal. </em>  But his boyfriend could be infuriating that way.  Other than his magic, his godfather, and to an extent Rafael and Jean-Claude, there didn’t seem to be a whole hell of a lot that he considered all that important in the grand scheme of life.  Which managed to be odd, refreshing, and utterly infuriating to others around him from what Rafael had experienced both personally and seen or smelled around Sirius when the other wizard had to deal with his godson’s particularly stubborn and nonchalant moments.  “But it’s also magical, just like the process of becoming a vampire.  I have a reasonable theory that I and/or Sirius might be immune to both or either because of how different the mechanics of our magics are to what is commonly found.”</p><p>Among other things.</p><p>Animagus were immune to his old world’s version of lycanthropy but that was a curse and then only in their animal form.</p><p>He - and he had a feeling Sirius was the same - would be willing to give up a bit of blood for testing to find out either way via a doctor they could trust rather than risking finding out the hard way.</p><p>Rafael blinked, face frozen at first and then twitching now and again as he considered that.</p><p>For some reason, he like a lot of supernaturals, tended to focus on the science of lycanthropy and not the magical side of it.</p><p>Probably because other than necromancers and the pair of wizards who currently called St. Louis home, magic was severely limited in its use.  Sure there were clairvoyants running around, wiccans who performed rituals, and so on, but nothing with <em> real </em> power to stand their ground against the physically stronger denizens of supernatural society.  Magical people tended to smell good to shifters depending on their type of chosen magic, but other than that...kinda a non-issue.</p><p>Necromancers going bad like Zachary were a category of their own, more monsters than magical for all that they used magic to their own ends.</p><p>“There’s someone I want you to meet.”  Rafael said slowly, eyeing Harry speculatively.  “Do you and Sirius have plans for Labor Day?”</p><p>“What’s that?”</p><p>“Holiday coming up soon.”  Rafael told him.  “With Nikolaos taken care of, it’s turning into a celebration out at the Rodere grounds.”  They didn’t have - or need for that matter - a sacred space like the Lupanar for the wolves, but they <em> did </em> own a decent stretch of land that like the Circus of the Damned going to the Master of the City was passed down between Roms.  “Best chance I can think of to have an openly magical person visit with one of my lieutenants who’s playing human to keep his job.”</p><p>“What’s his job?”  Harry asked obligingly - and with no little interest.</p><p>Rafael grinned at him, all white teeth and anticipation.  “Professor of Biology.”</p><p>“I’m in.”</p><p>“Excellent,” his grin turned smug as Harry drooped in place as what he’d just agreed to hit him.  “The Rodere has been excited to meet you.”</p><p>Shit.</p><p>
  <em> The Rodere. </em>
</p><p>As in: literal <em> hundreds </em> of shapeshifters who all knew he was dating - and given shifter noses - <em> and fucking </em> their Rom.</p><p>Goddamnit pretty fucking alphas with pretty fucking eyes and pretty fucking smiles…</p><p>The Black Portraits had <em> not </em> prepared him for a world filled with people who looked like Rafael Reyes, Jean-Claude, <em> any of Jean-Claude’s dancers, </em> or the likes of Ms. Happily-Mated-and-Married Estelle.  It had to be said: they <em> had not prepared him </em> for this world.  Or maybe just St. Louis in this world because London and Switzerland hadn’t been that bad or tempting.</p><p>Just.  What?  What even <em> was going on </em>with St. Louis?</p><p>Was it magic?</p><p>Was it something in the water?</p><p>Harry <em> seriously </em> needed to know before his libido and weakness for strong thighs and pretty smiles and eyes got him into more trouble than it’d already done in this world.</p><p>That if he said <em> any </em> of that to Sirius his godfather would laugh his ass off really didn’t help matters either.</p><p>A theory that was proven right when after the shifters had left to rest or handle business elsewhere or whatever they had planned for the rest of the day, Sirius nearly passed out laughing when Harry complained about having to go through the worst round of <em> meet the family </em>ever due to his own curiosity.</p><p>But at least Sirius had agreed to go with him instead of throwing him to the shifters.</p><p>That his good mood lasted only until Harry gave him what specifics he could about what he’d be doing for Marcus - Sirius like Rafael more than capable of filling in the blanks for himself - and then proceeded to ring one <em> hell </em> of a peal over his head for his antics since arriving in St. Louis was another story altogether.</p><p>...<br/>
<br/>
</p><p><em> “You have </em> got <em> to be more careful, pup!” </em>   Sirius finished his rant - or perhaps tirade - with a bit of a pant as he settled back against the mountain of pillows propping him up in Harry’s guest bed.  Even that much exertion was pushing his limits at the moment, healing taking a toll in draining his reserves even when there wasn’t any actual <em> weakness </em> in his body to be found.</p><p>To Dr. Lillian’s shock - and calculation mixed with awe - the hole in his abdomen was closed, only the lingering exhaustion and weakness to recover from now that he’d been out of the hospital and under magical healing via potions for several days.</p><p>Tomorrow or the day after he’d be itching to jump out of bed and <em> do something </em> after being laid up for more than a week, but for the moment recovery was still sapping too much of his strength as his magic sucked up his energy reserves like a needy puppy after working to keep him alive and healing once it was given a direction to work in.</p><p>Seeing the forlorn look on Harry’s face, Sirius gave a little.</p><p>“Your luck is the damnedest thing.”  He shook his head, almost bombarded by memories of the scraps that James could blithely stumble into and right back out of.  “Jump head first into an <em> eternal bond </em> with a vampire - but it’s with one of the few in probably all the world that won’t abuse it.  Say yes to a date with an alpha shifter - but it’s with one of the ones that isn’t hopped up on aggression and his own self-importance.  Offer an open-ended debt to an <em> Ulfric </em> - but Marcus is smart enough not to try and push you for more than you’ve offered.  I don’t know if you Potters were blessed or <em> cursed </em> with the situations you manage to wander into.”</p><p>“Married the love of his life, had a madman mark him for death.”  Harry said without amusement, easily following the train of thought.  “Yeah, I got it Sirius.  But when things are happening around me, terrible things, I can’t just look away.  <em> Especially </em> when it involves someone I care about, no less.”</p><p>“I’ll give you Nikolaos.”  Sirius admitted with a sigh.  “The way she ran St. Louis, you two were <em> bound </em> to knock heads and only one of you come out the other side still kicking.  This world isn’t like our old one, I’ll grant you that.  But there are <em> still </em> laws and traditions and rules that govern the supernatural <em> and </em> the mundane alike.”</p><p>“Unless you’re strong enough to <em> make </em> the rules.”  Harry pointed out cannily.  “Like a Master of the City or this Vampire Council I keep hearing about.”</p><p>“That’s true, but given what I’ve heard about the Council,” Sirius grimaced.  “That’s a fight I’d rather not bring down on us if we can avoid it.  The two of us together and fighting might be enough to take on most comers but if they throw enough fodder at us, we’ll have problems and if they bring out the big guns - I’ve heard everything from mass hypnosis of an <em> entire city’s shifters </em> to earthquakes that make the fall of Pompeii look tame - then it could very well be game over.”</p><p>“Beating them at their own game really is the only way to manage them, huh?”  Harry mused on the information Sirius gave him then came out with his synopsis.</p><p>“Strong enough to stand up, flexible enough to know when and how to bend without them trying to break you is the way I’ve heard it.”  Sirius admitted.  “But even then it’s a losing proposition.  A Master has to be batshit insane - in a drawing negative attention from mortals kind of way - before they’ll step in.  We should be safe here, in that regard at least, and I’m sure Jean-Claude has a firm hold on his people.  But…”</p><p>“Same problem different framework.”  Harry summed up.  “They learn about me and they’ll come knocking out of curiosity if nothing else.”</p><p>“Got it in one.”  Sirius nodded.  “And I’d <em> really </em> rather avoid a pissing match with the oldest vampires still kicking around this mudball if we can.”</p><p>“That makes two of us.”</p><p>“So,” Sirius drawled, wiggling his eyebrows.  “Stayed the day with Jean-Claude, huh?”</p><p>“Merlin’s balls, Sirius.”  Harry blushed, jumping to his feet and striding from the room.  “I’m <em> not </em> talking about my sex life with you!  You’re my <em> godfather!” </em></p><p>Sirius snorted to himself, muttering under his breath: “You’d be the only one.  Shifters are a <em> chatty </em> bunch.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If anyone is interested, my theme song - so to speak - for Rafael/Harry is Technicolor Beat by Oh Wonder, and I tend to listen to it on repeat when I'm writing any scene where the two are alone together.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Honor Bound</b> </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Chapter Three: Co-Conspirators</b>
</p><p>The next few days/nights saw Harry bouncing between Jean-Claude’s new court and spending time with Sirius.  There was little private time to be found with Jean as he continued his blood-oathing of the city’s vampires - and a few that started to arrive from elsewhere. A fact which had originally surprised him until he saw the way the new vampires all <em> looked </em> at Jean-Claude, with the sort of respect he was used to seeing pointed at the likes of Minerva McGonagall: a tempered, rational, earned respect as opposed to the borderline fear that most of the vampires who’d lived under Nikolaos exhibited.  Between the blood-oaths and the negotiations with the shifters of the city, their bond as master vampire and human servant - and exploring what they wanted that to mean between them - had to wait.  Neither of them were <em> happy </em> about the delay leaving matters still unsettled between them, but they did managed to spend “alone” time together - so to speak - through their dreaming wanderings so they made due.</p><p>For the moment.</p><p>Jean-Claude rather <em> pointedly </em> asked him to be away from the Circus the third night after his takeover when he would be “dealing with” the leader of the pard.</p><p>No explanation was forthcoming - from anyone - but Harry got the feeling that it wasn’t so much for Harry’s protection as it was to protect his <em> temper </em> from getting them into another sticky situation before the clean-up of dealing with Nikolaos was finished and the clusterfuckery of the pack was the first ticket in line after that.</p><p>That was more than fine with him.  The new moon was coming up, bringing his deadline for getting out from under his promise to Marcus ever-closer.  He didn’t tell anyone <em> why </em> he was so eager to see it done, letting everyone believe whatever they liked.  Whether they thought it was about him wanting to “save” the pack from this Raina’s influence, or trying to be a benefit to Jean-Claude, or whatever, he didn’t really care.</p><p>As long as it kept him from having to admit out loud that the way Marcus looked at him the few times they’d been in the same room left him unsettled.</p><p>It wasn’t a <em> negative </em> unsettled.  Not like Bellatrix or Voldemort an, <em> I’m afraid this person is going to kill me and use my bone marrow to flavor soup, </em> way.  No.  More like…  <em> He’s looking at me, I can’t quantify what about the look is throwing me off, but I don’t like it. </em></p><p>There were shades of when Jean-Claude first met him in those looks, as well as Burchard, a strong feeling of calculation.</p><p>Like Marcus was constantly running a mental risk v. reward equation or playing a massive game of chess-</p><p>Oh.</p><p>The pieces clicked together.</p><p>Marcus’s eyes when they were on Harry reminded him of Dumbledore’s but with none of the fanatic’s haze glossing them or the faked sparkle.</p><p>Calculating, manipulative, cunning.  Harry was certainly good at both drawing in and figuring out those sorts of people, wasn’t he?  Marcus was <em> another damn would-be Slytherin </em> but given how competitive his career field was and how dangerous climbing the ranks of a wolf pack from what Rafael had been teaching him on the subject - Jean-Claude chiming in during their daily rambles in his forming mindscape - made complete sense.</p><p>He used his damn <em> brain </em> where others used brawn and managed to take control of one of the oldest wolf packs in the United States.</p><p>It was honestly impressive, if only he wasn’t watching Harry like he was weighing the pros and cons of <em> some </em> purpose that Harry wasn’t yet privy to, he’d probably like him more.</p><p>Jean-Claude was Slytherin <em> as fuck </em> but Harry didn’t mind it as long as he didn’t use those traits and skills against him or Sirius.</p><p>The problem with Slytherins was that unless you know <em> where </em> their ambition was fixed, it was almost <em> fucking impossible </em> to predict them.</p><p>It was like trying to play chess without knowing which piece was both your own king as well as the enemy’s: sheer luck and happenstance if you managed to succeed while utterly blind.</p><p>Other than freeing himself - and in turn his pack - from a poisonous influence, Harry didn’t actually <em> know </em> anything about Marcus’s motivations.</p><p>And given that he still <em> owed </em> the Ulfric for Sirius and would until he stripped Raina Wallis of her mate bond to Marcus, that was dangerous <em> as fuck </em> because there was no way for him to predict a last minute bludger coming from across the field to knock him on his ass.</p><p>Harry didn’t think that Marcus would make a last demand or addition.</p><p>No, what worried him was that there would be <em> consequences </em> of him performing his part that he couldn’t predict or anticipate.</p><p>Which, honestly, just made him buckle down and work that much harder to plan for the ones that he <em> could </em> predict as a result of his honor debt being fulfilled and hope that the rest just came out in the wash.</p><p>…</p><p>The night before the new moon, Jean-Claude asked him if he would overnight there and stay for the day of the new moon as Sirius was officially off bed rest and started making noises about going back to his own loft, Harry as a result spending less time “clucking over him like a mother dragon.”</p><p>Harry hadn’t spent a full day at the Circus since the day of the takeover, and he had a feeling it was starting to bother Jean how <em> companionable </em> they’d been despite neither of them being shy regarding the fact that they expected the bond would inevitably sexual, though the vampire had yet to actually <em> say </em> anything to that end.</p><p>With as sexual as they <em> both </em> were anyone expecting them to remain platonic partners had to be on some good drugs, the simple fact of the matter behind their delay being more a matter of time constraints than any <em> lack </em> of desire.</p><p>The opposite rather.</p><p>Harry had a feeling that once they got <em> started </em> they were probably going to set a whole new bar for <em> scorching hot </em> between the sheets - or against the wall, or in the shower, or if Harry was picking up on things right on Jean’s not-throne - and would need plenty of time to put each other through their paces.</p><p>There was almost none of the <em> softness </em> in his relationship with Jean-Claude that was there in his with Rafael.  Jean wasn’t a partner for hazy morning lovemaking in the sunlight.  He wasn’t picket fences and barbecues with the Rodere or bringing lunches to construction sites.</p><p>And that was perfectly alright to Harry.</p><p>He didn’t <em> need </em> another Rafael or a vampire version thereof: he had an amazing Rafael already and to think otherwise would be one hell of an insult.</p><p>No, while Harry might take other lovers, at no point was he looking to replace or replicate what he already had.</p><p>He wasn’t that Merlin-damned selfish.</p><p>Harry had chosen to take Jean-Claude’s marks <em> in part </em> out of logic, fear, and expediency it was true.  </p><p>But <em> also </em> because when he looked at Jean and how he’d chosen to pursue Harry, respect Sirius’s boundaries, even the way he was with his employees at <em> Guilty Pleasures </em> or now the remnants of Nikolaos’s court, he saw a vampire who could <em> understand </em> him on a level that he honestly never thought another person would be capable of.</p><p>The more he found out about Jean’s background in these little tidbits dropped into conversation that most would ignore, the more he felt that initial impression gain weight.</p><p>When he saw how Jean looked at his dancers - all of them vulnerable in their own ways before coming under his protection - Harry saw his own drive to protect staring back at him.  Jean-Claude looked at the vulnerable in the way of one who <em> had been vulnerable. </em>  A knowing that was almost impossible to fake.</p><p>They weren’t his children but they were his charges - albeit of vastly different types - and come hell or high water Jean would protect them (and himself, as they were rather massive weaknesses as Robert had proven thanks to Nikolaos) with every weapon he could call to hand.</p><p>Harry was determined to prove to the centuries-old vampire that he could stand toe-to-toe and shoulder-to-shoulder with him as an equal, not another charge he’d taken on.</p><p>He’d more than proven himself in his capacity for violence and vengeance, but the fact remained that good warriors didn’t necessarily make good politicians.</p><p>Much in the same way that good men rarely made good kings.</p><p>Jean-Claude was shaping up to be an <em> excellent </em> king of his territory, and over his dead body would Harry end up being a problem Jean continually had to handle or apologize for.</p><p>If that meant - temporarily - putting the breaks on their <em> burning like the surface of the fucking sun </em> sexual chemistry that had him hesitant to even <em> touch </em> Jean-Claude in person so he could focus on not embarrassing the master vampire in front of his court and the newcomers that arrived every night, so be it.</p><p>So yeah, Harry wasn’t shocked in the least that Jean had had enough of Harry focusing on being a valuable <em> human servant </em> in neglect of being his, well, paramour he guessed was the best word for their would-be relationship as things stood.</p><p>Honestly, given how patient he’d apparently been whilst planning a coup again Nikolaos, he thought it would take more time for Jean-Claude to reach the point of talking to Harry about the situation in person and breaking the tentative detente they’ve had between them since Harry pulled his vampire ass out of the fryer with Nikolaos - though Jean, conniver that he was, had already had a plan in place for that albeit one resulting in likely collateral damage - but it just went to show that Harry didn’t know <em> everything </em> about Jean.</p><p>Their bond helped significantly when it came to Harry learning about Jean-Claude via their mental strolls but by both of their preferences they’d kept away from heavy topics when they wandered Jean’s nascent mindscape.  Or in the moment when Harry was present at Jean’s fledgling court, he got a lot of emotional feedback or mental explanations during events.  But the two of them had only <em> really </em> sat down and talked once - and that was directly before Jean-Claude bonded him via the marks.</p><p>Harry <em> knew </em> in a way that another not bonded to Jean-Claude never would that Jean was truly fond of Jason and most of his employees - at more than <em> Guilty Pleasures</em>, which had been a mind-trip realizing just how sprawling Jean’s business holdings were.  He <em> knew </em> that while Jason was his favorite of both his employees and donors, and to an outsider the relationship has a lot of hallmarks of a master/pet dynamic, that Jean would never deny him if Jason found himself unwilling to continue their relationship for one reason or another.  He wasn’t jealous of anything but Jason’s blood, and was far more liberal with allowing Jason to take lovers than apparently a master vampire was <em> supposed </em> to be from some reactions Harry had noted among the newcomer vampires.</p><p>That was just a single example of course, but given Harry’s own status in Jean-Claude’s life and court, it was a perspicacious one.</p><p>Harry arrived at the Circus before dusk and easily made his way down into the court below.</p><p>He’d put up the magical protections a few days before while Jean-Claude and the rest of the vampires slept and more than one shifter watched him with eager eyes, and his wards would <em> never </em> keep him out - a fact that he very <em> carefully </em> danced around much the same as Sirius had done in the past with his customers.  Once Sirius was back on his feet and fully recovered, Jean-Claude had plans to secure both of their services as contractors to ward the Circus itself.  But for the moment, the caverns below the city relied upon Harry’s magical protections alone - and so long as Jean was the Master of the City they always would if Harry had his way.</p><p>It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Sirius - not in the slightest.</p><p>It was just that Sirius’s way of warding and protections were focused on reactions to action not based on intention to prevent said action.</p><p>Sirius’s way worked <em> phenomenally </em>well to protect places like businesses that were open to the public or apartment buildings that housed multiple units.</p><p>But when it came to <em> private dwellings </em> Harry’s way of keeping those with ill intentions from entering full-stop was a much more effective measure - especially since with the supernatural all it often took <em> was </em> a single action for all hell to break loose.</p><p>The court caverns may not be a <em> private dwelling </em> but it was under the control of a single person in Jean-Claude so while it was tedious at times to fine-tune such a complex network of tunnels and caverns and access points into a single warding scheme, it was worth it if Harry never had to fear a lucky asshole managing to light Jean-Claude up like a firework while he slept.</p><p>Harry exchanged nods and greetings with the shifters on duty while all but Jean-Claude of the vampires who continue to rest for the day in the court caverns still slept.  No movement on the Head of Day Security front had been made, Harry waving at an ever-vigilant Shang-Da as the Chinese werewolf kept track of the shifters posted throughout the warren of tunnels in an office located equidistant between the main entrance to the caverns at the Circus and Jean-Claude’s <em> reception </em> room that was finished undergoing a facelift.  Harry barely flicked a glance over the carpets that now lined the large cavern - both leading up to the dais and creating along with actual <em> seating </em> little conversation areas - or the crystal chandelier that had replaced the old-fashioned lanterns that Nikolaos had used.</p><p>While the caverns and tunnels were underground, in at least the main areas that housed both Jean-Claude and the main members of his court, you’d never know it.</p><p>Harry had started much of the redecorating under Jean-Claude’s direction and to his taste as a way to keep busy between meetings, but the vampire had taken that and <em> run </em> with it, hiring Rafael’s construction company to do much of the renovations that Harry increasingly didn’t have time to tinker with using magic or the knowledge to manage.</p><p>He was proud of his skills but he’d be the first person to admit that running electrical lines and relays or worse <em> plumbing </em> was beyond his ability.</p><p>The work had also given him a few ideas about what to do with his basement and some other properties he’d seen his way to <em> acquiring </em> for magical uses he didn’t want at his home - like experimentation on adaption potions or rituals to ingredients that were now available or having to replace those that <em> weren’t </em> - but he was being <em> good </em> and waiting for Rafael’s crews to finish their projects before his own.</p><p>He was relatively certain that if he really wanted he could, er, <em> convince </em> Rafa to move him up the queue but with as much time around Jean-Claude as he was spending lately he was actively working to keep from slipping too far into a Slytherin mindset.</p><p>Entering Jean-Claude’s suite just off the living-area cavern adjoining the reception cavern and connected by a short tunnel that Harry had warded to hell and gone even more so than the rest of the complex, Harry followed the pull into Jean’s suite-within-a-suite.  The main suite itself that had been taken by Nikolaos was more than half a dozen cavern rooms surrounding a main “living” cavern off a foyer/guard post entryway room.  Of those rooms, the smallest Harry had claimed as his apparation point/room, while Jason as Jean’s <em> pomme </em> had been granted a lovely bedroom with attached bath - once Jean’s decorating sensibilities and Rafael’s construction abilities had given it a thorough going over, including swinging the entrance to the bathroom from Harry’s little box over to Jason’s bedroom.</p><p><em> Why </em> Nikolaos had given Burchard the smallest room in the suite but also an attached bathroom larger than the bedroom, he couldn’t even begin to understand unless it was a holdover from Burchard’s military background playing out.</p><p>Otherwise, Harry was at a loss, but when it came to trying to figure out logic from crazy that was a common side-effect for him.</p><p>Jason’s bedroom also had a door added into Jean-Claude’s actual bedroom - but warded by Harry to only open from Jean’s side, despite Harry putting protections on the room in the suite to keep out everyone but Jason or Jean-Claude.</p><p>Jean-Claude’s bedroom actually connected to several other rooms in addition to Jason’s mini-suite, creating the master-suite within the Master’s suite.  He’d had an adjoining cavern - but not actually connected to anything else originally, just <em> there </em> and never used - opened into the bedroom in a massive, and lush, bathroom that magazines would drool over which had taken up all of one construction crew’s time since Jean took over as Master.  One was being used to house Jean’s frankly <em> unholy </em> amount of clothes, shoes, and accessories.  There was a private office where he handled his actual <em> work </em> instead of his show office for meetings or when he needed to be available as Master of the City.  And of course, the massive bedroom itself with a bed built for nothing less than orgies and draped in silks.</p><p>Harry found his <em> other half </em> setting out what he had a feeling was an outfit for that night for him to wear - Jean-Claude as always impeccably turned out in gothic-rockstar chic from his painted-on leather pants and knee-boots in black to his while silk shirt and tumble of glossy black curls that fought his shirt for which was shinier.</p><p>“Good evening, Jean-Claude.”</p><p>“<em>Bonsoir, mon petit sorcier.” </em>   Jean-Claude smiled at the sight of his favorite human bar none.  Frustrating and fascinating in equal measures, he’d never thought he would meet someone like his Harry, let alone ever take a human servant.  In this case however, he was more than pleased at having been proven wrong.  A rare thing indeed.  “<em>Beau comme toujours, </em>but we are expecting...particular guests tonight.”</p><p>He waved a hand elegantly at the leather trousers in deep purple so rich it appeared black until the light from the bronze wall sconces hit it - a stylistic choice of Harry’s he was more than happy to leave in place during his renovations - and the shirt that was little more than a nod to clothing in thin, delicate white silk.</p><p>Especially against Harry’s tattoos and skin tone, what little of them it would cover being essentially sleeve-and-side-less with a thin band at the hip to keep it closed though at least the shoulder pieces were several inches thick.</p><p>“What’s the impression we’re going for?”  Harry asked, arching a brow then using a switching spell to replace his jeans - and underwear, there was <em> no way </em> even his tight boxer-briefs were going to fit under those trousers, he saw how Jean wore them - and button down with the pieces laying like half a threat on the bed.  “Am I a decoration this evening, or…?”</p><p>Given that he was pretty certain he’s seen Jason wear something similar to his own outfit - just in different colors - over the last week, he felt the question justified.</p><p>“Not at all.”  Jean-Claude pouted a bit at missing out on even the tease-via-sound of a show from Harry changing.  “On the contrary,” he tapped the edges of several runic tattoos that showed on Harry’s sides from the slits.  “Cynbel and Crowley are <em> more </em> than old enough to have some idea of the meaning of these, even if they’ve never met someone like you before.  The same with Damian and Perrin.  <em> True </em> ancients, the kind who measure time in centuries rather than years or decades, but not so old as most of the members of the Council, though Crowley was sired by a member personally.”</p><p>“Which one?”  Harry frowned, noticing that there was a large cutout in the back of the shirt that showed off the <em> Aegishjalmr, </em> the “Helm of Awe and Terror,” that resided between his shoulder blades.</p><p>The cutout didn’t leave his <em> entire </em> back bare, but showed off enough of it that he knew the peekaboo nature of it was going to bug him.</p><p>He’d rather <em> not </em> wear a shirt than only wear half of one, but that was a fight with Jean-Claude he would wage another day when his almost-paramour wasn’t fretting - in the lowkey <em> not anxious, nothing to see here </em> - way of his.</p><p>Something about this meeting - he’d twigged it was the first one with C&amp;C that was the problem - was rattling at Jean’s instincts more than any other they’d had over the several days, nearly a week.</p><p>Between apportioning the territory that was Nikolaos’s with permission from the Council - and <em> holy shit </em> she’d had control of thousands of square miles, no wonder Jean called it <em> unwieldy </em> - negotiations with the shifter clans and welcoming new vampires into the fold, he’d had a lot going on but nothing that unsettled him like the mention of these two.</p><p>“The Dragon.”  A muscled flexed in Jean-Claude jaw as he clenched it, hands almost reflexively tightening without his permission.  “She tends to be removed from most politics and decisions in the modern era, and is certainly one of the three oldest active members of the Vampire Council.  As a result, no one seems to remember what her original name was, much like Crowley, or even her Sire.”</p><p>She’d been casually cruel to him when he’d been given in service to the Council by his <em> sourdre de sang</em>, but nothing like the maliciousness of some of the other members and their Courts.</p><p>He still would move heaven and earth to never be under her control, or have one of <em> hers </em> near him, but there was little to be done about the latter.</p><p>Given that other than Moroven the only known <em> sourdre de sangs </em> all served on the Council, he <em> had </em> to accept their progeny or descendants into his territory or greet them on their way to set up their courts elsewhere in Nikolaos’s old territory.</p><p>In most instances Jean-Claude could separate the Council from the rest of their kind, that they <em> barely </em> mingled outside of their courts certainly helped, but the Dragon unsettled him in a way that only the Traveler could equal.</p><p>As of all the Council, even the Earthmover who at least bore <em> some </em> resemblance to humans or other vampires, the Dragon and the Traveler <em> acted </em> the least like the rest of their kind.</p><p>They were...<em> detached </em> in a way that even the oldest of their kind couldn’t manage half so well despite being significantly - or so Jean-Claude would assume - their senior.</p><p>“Hmm,” Harry hummed, Jean-Claude’s unsteadiness regarding The Dragon settling into place.  He didn’t have a full picture yet, but he was starting to form one regarding the line of solid <em> steel </em> that seemed to run in Jean-Claude when it came to protecting the vulnerable.  That Jean was a survivor wasn’t in doubt.  What Harry was starting to wonder was just <em> what </em> was it he’d survived that shaped the vampire he’d become.  “Wordless threat for our new neighbors, got it.”</p><p>Jean-Claude reached out and gently grasped Harry’s hand, pressing a firm kiss to the back, dark blue eyes with their double rows of lashes staring deep into Harry in thanks for his innate understanding of some parts of politics.</p><p>He couldn’t even imagine trying to navigate his new station with a less capable partner than Harry.</p><p>It made him wonder about his actual background, though while it showed less in Harry outside of court, <em> Sirius </em> was certainly an aristocrat and Harry had some of the same polish simply less ingrained.</p><p>Likely not taught from the cradle but later in life, perhaps once he started schooling.</p><p>Growing up as Jean-Claude did in his mortal life, he knew well the difference between the two.</p><p>With nothing to be lost for abandoning reticence in order to protect himself and <em> everything </em> to gain, he spoke aloud of at least some of his thoughts.</p><p>“I could not imagine walking this path with anyone else but you at my side.”  He told his little monster, Harry’s verdant eyes growing large and their bond sparkling in surprise.  “Alone, perhaps I could have managed but the sacrifices it would no doubt have demanded from me would have rendered me little better than those I despise in time.  I thank you, Harry, for trusting me enough to be your entrance and guide into my world - as dark, vile, and depraved it can be at times.”</p><p>Harry’s half of the bond turned thoughtful, even as he turned his hand in Jean-Claude’s own and linked their fingers together when a knock came at the door.</p><p>Their <em> guests </em> had arrived.</p><p>…</p><p>Crowley, last remaining progeny of the ancient vampiress known in the modern era as merely <em> The Dragon </em> to exist outside of those kept at her side in her court, took the measure of this young vampire who had the Council in such a <em> tizzy. </em></p><p>True, even for a Master Vampire, Jean-Claude of Belle Morte’s line <em> was </em> a tad bit young to ascend as the Master of such a large territory as St. Louis had to claim.</p><p>While the mortals believed that there was a vampire Master overseeing <em> every </em> city, that wasn’t necessarily true.</p><p>Major <em> cities </em> certainly did, but with the sprawling mass of land that were - well, everything but Europe to be frank - far too large to police in their entirety, some Masters while considered Master of a certain city in fact held dominion over far larger areas than a mere city.</p><p>When his lover had been contacted by the youngling from Cynbel’s same line regarding taking over a piece of one of these sprawling <em> messes </em> of a domain, Crowley had been suspicious.</p><p>Jean-Claude’s history was far more well known than the younger generation of vampires realized, told between those who’d been in existence at the time as a cautionary tale regarding both the viciousness of the Church and their attempted Purge of their kind, as well as the caprice and cruelty of the Council.</p><p>His Sire might not be the <em> literal </em> vampire bogeyman - The Traveler and the Harlequin had <em> that </em> well in hand, thank you - but the Council did not live so long and acquire so much power by being fluffy little bunnies.</p><p>Jean-Claude was a cautionary tale in another way as well - as no sooner had he been spirited away from his sourdre de sang’s side than a year later had he emerged as a Master vampire in his own right.</p><p>That he had seemed to come into his own power spike suddenly and without prior warning gave credence to the idea that many of the older generations of vampires had that the progenitors of their lines were capable of <em> restraining </em> the power of lesser vampires in some way, stunting their growth.</p><p>The Frenchman gaining such an increase of power after he disappeared from France and without prior warning of him being capable of such was all the proof many needed that the idea had merit.</p><p>And reinforced in many of them - Crowley and Cynbel included - to avoid their <em> sourdre de sang </em> if they were not already held at their side for fear of Jean-Claude’s former stunting being their fate as well.</p><p>Surely, it stood to reason, Jean-Claude therefore had no reason to look <em> kindly </em> on either of them for being directly turned by members of the Council who had once used the beautiful male as little more than a sexual slave and plaything for their amusement.</p><p>Cyn, however, hadn’t been nearly so cynical about Jean-Claude’s intentions.</p><p>The territory that he’d inherited along with tearing off Nikolaos’s pretty little head - a feat Crowley would’ve <em> paid </em> to have seen personally - truly was an ungainly mess.</p><p>More, Cyn still remembered letters from his fellow childe of Belle Morte, the now-tragic figure of Asher, who had written of a budding revolutionary with ebony curls and night-sky eyes.</p><p>The curls and the eyes were much the same, Crowley thought as he studied the new Master of St. Louis as he strode in with the sort of inherent elegance that was taught from the cradle, but the human servant was <em> new. </em></p><p>So new that Crowley could almost <em> smell </em> the freshness of their marks, as anyone with functioning eyes could see Jean-Claude’s bite mark on that lean bronzed neck.</p><p>Whether Jean-Claude retained his revolutionary’s fire after <em> serving </em> at the non-existent mercies of the Council on the other hand, only time would tell.</p><p>…</p><p>Harry walked hand-in-hand with Jean-Claude to his public office - later there would be a formal greeting for the vampires who came with the couple taking over Branson to join Jean’s court, but for now this was a private meeting between neighboring masters - mentally reviewing the little about the pair that Jean had shared with him beside their age and line.</p><p>He found it particularly interesting that not long after Rafael had made - and Sirius had confirmed - the idea for him that vampires didn’t really <em> do </em> marriage or monogamous relationships, the pair that according to Jean-Claude that <em> were </em> the closest thing to that he’d ever met showed up.</p><p>Of two different lines, with two <em> very </em> different sets of powers, Crowley - who would be the new Master of Branson following the upcoming meetings - and Cynbel, Harry could already tell were older than any other vampire he’d met before except for the unlamented Janos who’d been killed during the take over.</p><p>Jean-Claude had been careful to cover up the exact <em> manner </em> and timing of the ancient vampire’s death, but Harry would’ve put him as Roman as his name and verging on two thousand years old at a guess.</p><p>Neither of <em> these </em> vampires had that kind of weight behind them, but they both made Nikolaos look like a regular vampire in comparison and Jean-Claude might as well be a child.</p><p>What he found truly <em> fascinating </em> about vampires in this world however, was that after a certain point their <em> age </em> stopped mattering except in terms of either experience or ennui.  While both of the master vampires waiting in Jean-Claude’s sleek white-black office with its distinctly <em> French </em> decor, were clearly ancient masters who shouldn’t be underestimated, they <em> weren’t </em> more powerful than Jean-Claude now that he was the Master of St. Louis.  If Harry had to put money on it, he’d say they weren’t even more powerful than Jean <em> without </em> their bond increasing his strength.</p><p>It was an interesting little <em> quirk </em> of this world, much like how an alpha shifter couldn’t be trained or taught into being an alpha - they either had the potential or they didn’t and no amount of combat training or working on their metaphysical powers would make an alpha out of a regular lycanthrope.</p><p>Crowley, like Sirius’s friend Dave, broke the trend of vampires being otherworldly in their attractiveness.</p><p>Which made sense as from what he could tell neither of them were from Belle Morte’s line who were - according to Jean-Claude - the reason that the modern era had the idea of “sexy vampires” as the prevailing stereotype as almost without exception new members of Belle Morte’s line were chosen for their desirability first and their everything else second.</p><p>Other vampires apparently called them succubus or incubus vampires if they also had the <em> ardeur </em> to call upon - and having experienced <em> that </em> vampire power for hismelf he could certainly understand why.</p><p>Crowley wasn’t <em> ugly </em> by any measure, more conventionally handsome in a <em> dad </em> or maybe a <em> professor </em> kind of way instead of the sex-god thing that both Jean-Claude and the vampire at Crowley’s side both had in <em> spades. </em></p><p>Jean-Claude whispered in his mind that “Cyn” had a version of <em> ardeur </em> that was more in the fashion of an attractive aura, an animal magnetism for lacking a better description, that made him drip sex appeal even when he wasn’t trying to attract someone.  Both a blessing and a curse - passive versions of the <em> ardeur </em> didn’t require <em> feeding </em> as active versions did, but they likewise couldn’t be turned off and on like full-fledged <em> ardeur </em> could be.  Cyn <em> was </em> far more handsome than the norm, with dark hair and eyes, and when he looked at his partner a lightning-quick smile that threatened to light up the room on its power alone.</p><p>Crowley <em> felt </em> menacing.</p><p>Of the two, Harry’d rather go a round with him than try and take on his partner.</p><p>Something about Cyn said that trying to pin him down without killing him would be like trying to herd cats - or outthink Jean.</p><p>“Crowley,” Jean-Claude greeted the visiting master vampire with a cordial nod.  “And Cynbel, <em> mon ami, </em> it is good to see you again.”</p><p>“First time in many years, my friend.”  Cyn smiled slightly and nodded, ignoring the <em> look </em> Crowley shot him at Jean’s greeting.  </p><p>Let alone when Cyn returned the continental greeting of hands on his shoulder and kisses to each other’s cheeks.  </p><p>So he might’ve undersold his knowledge of Jean-Claude a bit.  Or a lot.  But what his beloved didn’t know, couldn’t be taken by the Dragon - at least when they were within the dusty old bat’s grasp.  Thankfully, being an ocean away strained even <em> her </em> powers and if what he was reading off of the cavalier-turned-vampire was true then if the Council came knocking in St. Louis then they would have <em> far </em> more to worry about than Cyn and his beloved.  </p><p>“Cynbel, a friend of Jean’s.”  Cyn stretched out his arms in welcome to the <em> biggest </em> problem that the Council would have - in more way than one - if they wanted to pick a fight with their former chew toy.  He repeated his greeting to the divine little thing that was going to <em> quite </em> tweak the Council’s nose at some point.  Lucky Jean.  “You are <em> delectable</em>,” he declared, staring down into amused green eyes that were far more vivid than he’d seen anywhere but on a full-fae in all his many years.  “Jean, you lucky, lucky bastard, where have you been <em> hiding </em> such a gem?”</p><p>“Cyn, my old friend,” Jean-Claude’s tone was as indulgent as his expression - though he hid his amusement when his Harry and <em> Crowley </em> of all vampires shared an exasperated glance at his and Cyn’s antics.  “I am pleased to make known to you <em> mon petit sorcier, </em>Hari Potter.”</p><p>“It’s new.”  Harry’s smile was wry, laughing on the inside at the <em> eye roll </em> of all things that the menacingly-powered Crowley gave the pair of flamboyant vampires.  “But my <em> inamorato </em>doesn’t wait when he finds something he wants.”</p><p>Cyn chuckled at that and let loose of the delightful little baggage, sure down to his bones that Jean-Claude had had more than <em> one </em> reason to introduce them <em> and </em> that while he called him <em> little sorcerer </em> in public there was likely a much <em> cheekier </em> nickname used in private.</p><p>“Nor do most of our kind.”  Crowley nodded his head slightly at the human servant’s observation - though unlike his partner, his powers weren’t the sort that would give him any <em> insights </em> to the little magician’s own talents.  That Jean-Claude was being so <em> obliging </em> about Cyn’s manhandling of his servant - especially if it is as new as he was sensing - he put down to one of the vampire’s many cunning little plans.  “For an immortal race we can be <em> abominably </em>impatient.”  Crowley kept his calculating gaze on Potter for a long moment, flicking it away only when Jean-Claude drew his servant over to his side and behind the Master of St. Louis’s desk.  “Shall we, Master Jean-Claude?”  Crowley glanced at the documents that would apportion Branson and some of the surrounding area to Crowley’s control that sat out on the desk.</p><p>“<em>Tout à fait,” </em> Jean-Claude waved for his guests to take their seats, Harry standing at his shoulder, then began rehashing the particulars that both Crowley and the Council - as well as Jean-Claude himself - had already agreed upon.  “We shall, Master Crowley.”</p><p>…</p><p>“He’s no Fae.”</p><p>Jean-Claude and Cynbel both knew that their partners were merely humoring them - and neither of them was certain to be glad or <em> terrified </em> that Harry and Crowley seemed to take to each other, both seeing dying of sheer snark overload in their futures if they teamed up against them - but still Harry had gone along with Jean-Claude’s “request” that Harry show Crowley a few of the major changes they’d undertaken.</p><p>Ostensibly it was to give the elder vampire a few ideas for renovating the manor house that Crowley was given along with dominion over Branson.</p><p>In reality, it was to allow the pair of Belle Morte vampires to conspire.</p><p>Though if Harry at least had any inkling about what, Jean-Claude had a feeling he’d be dodging more than <em> one </em> irate spell from the wizard.</p><p>He hadn’t <em> lied </em> about Cyn’s power - his minor ability with the <em> ardeur </em> was entirely passive and not something he could control.</p><p>However, what it actually <em> did</em>, on that matter Jean-Claude had allowed Harry to draw his own conclusions.</p><p>Introducing Cynbel to Harry was a calculated risk.</p><p>Anything the elder vampire learned would be shared almost without exception with his partner - it was one of the things that made the pair of them so dangerous to other vampires.</p><p>Where others were frightened of revealing weakness for fear of being taken advantage of - Jean-Claude included - what Crowley and Cyn had was a true partnership where each shielded the other where needed and supported them always.</p><p>Jean-Claude had truly thought that after Asher he would never have a chance at such a thing again.</p><p>Harry seemed to be determined to prove him wrong, merely by virtue of being <em> Harry. </em></p><p>Cynbel’s ability to <em> lure </em> others had a secondary use: it also on touch let him <em> know </em> them in order to please them.</p><p>He could become with a look and a touch the embodiment of a target’s every desire.</p><p>Jean-Claude could relate, both with the positives and negatives of such a gift, even if his own was far more encompassing and demanding than Cyn’s own.</p><p>“You are certain, <em> mon ami?” </em>  Jean-Claude frowned slightly in consternation at Cyn’s statement that came as soon as the door clicked shut behind their partners and engaged the magical soundproofing that Harry had started layering on various rooms between audiences on evening.  “I was so sure…”</p><p>“His gifts are unique and extraordinary.”  Cyn lifted his brows, almost able to <em> feel </em> the power still humming under his friend’s newest acquisition’s skin.  “But they are not those of the Fae for all that I’m sure they share markers if you were sure of his heritage.  To be honest,” and Cyn was more than a little <em> put out </em> over the matter.  “I can’t tell you what his species is.  Only that it’s nothing I’ve encountered before.  The godfather, he is the same?”</p><p>Considering Cyn’s age, that was one <em> hell </em> of a statement to make.</p><p>“Differences in how they use their power, minor differences in the scents of their blood, but on the whole they share a strong relation that one like us could discern in their blood.”  Jean-Claude pursed his lips then gave an elegant shrug.  “Cousins, I would say if pressed, a bit distant but still viable.  And their familial love is far from feigned.”</p><p>“Then I would counsel you to be ever vigilant and cautious, my old friend.”  Cyn gave a conceding nod at Jean-Claude certainty regarding the pair’s relation if nothing else about them.  “You know how <em> They </em> are about rarities.  One will come to test you soon if word reaches <em> Them </em> about your gem.”</p><p>“Soon is relative at <em> Their,</em>” unlike Cyn’s own caution, Jean-Claude’s runaround reference to the Council was brimming with vitriol.  “Ages.  They will come when they come.  <em> C'est la vie. </em>  I will not tremble in fear, but I will prepare nonetheless.”</p><p>“<em>C'est la vie,</em>” Cyn echoed, then they rose to rejoin their partners.</p><p>He wouldn’t miss Jean-Claude’s reaction to the <em> gifts </em> he’s brought them - as knowing is one thing but <em> seeing </em> another - for all the world.</p><p>…</p><p>“You know they’re conspiring about something.”  Harry commented, as he allowed Crowley to take his arm - finding that his power is still a bit menacing but more as a contrast against that of Cynbel and Jean-Claude than anything - as he showed the new Master of Branson around the public areas of the caverns.</p><p>“Oh, when that lot <em> stop </em> conspiring, then I’ll worry.”  Crowley verbally waved off the young one’s concerns.  He <em> was </em> young.  He would learn in time, or Jean-Claude would grow tired of him.  Either way, the situation would resolve itself.  “<em>Court </em> vampires can’t help it.”</p><p>“And you’re not a court vampire?”  Harry raised his brows in surprise.</p><p>“Not anymore than you’re Jean-Claude’s pet court wizard.”  Crowley shot back.  “Oh, I imagine you can handle the dance as well as the next person, better in fact if Jean-Claude took you on, but it’s not <em> in </em> your blood the way it is theirs.  You’ll never love the intrigues and the plotting the way they do.  And that’s as it should be.”  Crowley smirked down at the thoughtful little wizard, as he’d heard was the boy’s preferred label.  “Otherwise, they’d be bored bloody with us in a month.  And <em> boredom </em> kills more vampires every year than stakes and flaming crosses, my dear.”</p><p>…</p><p>Jean-Claude walked into his audience chamber with his Harry on his arm, the sight of Harry being <em> comradely </em> with Crowley of all vampires having sent a warning chill down his spine to seperate them as soon as possible.</p><p>He was glad now more than ever that Crowley would be more than a hundred miles away, having not anticipated the two getting on <em> quite </em> so well.</p><p>The protections that his little monster had put over the Circus and even more so the caverns and tunnels below were curious things.</p><p>In some ways they almost mimicked the magic of a human dwelling.</p><p>To wit: visitors had to be invited inside and by Jean-Claude himself.</p><p>Handy, to say the least, as it should prevent <em> unexpected company </em>from being able to walk right into his court - likely after tearing through most of his guards.</p><p>Harry had given him a book that he wrote his invitations in the evening before the arrivals, and the invitation would hold for a single day and night thereafter before expiring.</p><p>The exception, of course, being those blood-oathed to him or his myriad allies he was in the process of collecting who had much more <em> lenient </em> welcomes albeit without allowing them to grant another access to the caverns.</p><p>An unexpected guest would be able to enter the caverns from the main entrance above, but then would <em> only </em> be allowed into a holding area directly branching off of it.</p><p>Jean-Claude hadn’t experienced it for himself, but word from his test dummies of various vampires and shifters and even a human chosen from the Circus visitors gave testimonies of everything from a strong feeling that they needed to be <em> elsewhere </em> nearing panic in their desire to leave (the human) to an inherent <em> belief </em> that there was nothing beyond that room despite them all knowing very well otherwise.</p><p>Oh yes, his little monster was <em> quite </em> the wicked little thing.</p><p>Though as he <em> felt </em> his little monster’s reaction to his new court members - a pair of vampires who were Viking raiders in their mortal years, one of stern aesthetic good looks and the other so beautiful in his way that he could rival either Jean-Claude or Nathaniel - he had to admit that he <em> may </em> have mistaken the source of Harry’s reticence to engage with Jean-Claude initially for a distaste for vampire lovers.</p><p>As Jean-Claude knew well a vampire’s <em> appetites </em> he wouldn’t have blamed him for it.</p><p>Not in the least.</p><p>He’d known that Harry was very attracted to him - all without being affected by his <em> ardeur </em> - and less so but still intrigued by Aubrey.</p><p>Jean-Claude had yet to see another vampire who got even that much of a reaction from Harry from the ones he’s met since, his reactions to shifters far more visceral.</p><p>As it stood it seemed Jean-Claude wasn’t an outlier after all even as Harry swiftly stamped down internally on his immediate arousal at the sight of Damian’s long fall of dark copper hair and vivid leaf-green eyes married to the tall, strong build of a warrior.</p><p>That...was a complication he did not expect.</p><p>Though judging from the amused expressions on the faces of Crowley and Cynbel, it was one they very much <em> did </em> and were enjoying at his expense.</p><p>Jean-Claude sighed internally.  In the end it was no matter.</p><p>He simply hoped for Damian’s continued <em> well-being </em> that he wasn’t averse to either being watched or sharing a lover - because while Jean-Claude would have reservations over sharing Harry with <em> any </em> other vampire, one with Damian’s history of abuse and resulting instability was <em> not </em> a risk he would allow to harm <em> his </em> little monster.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Honor Bound</b> </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Chapter Four: Hold Back the Dawn</b>
</p>
<p>Harry shot Jean-Claude a swift glance in concern as he felt a spike of aggression coming from his always-cool (with rare exceptions) vampire, a little at a loss to explain it.</p>
<p>All they’d done was enter the audience chamber, with Jean-Claude seating him on the arm of his chair-not-a-throne before going to stand on a step just before the newcomers to his territory - the pair that were staying anyway.</p>
<p>Well...all they’d done <em> physically </em> anyway, Harry corrected himself as he felt his gaze pulled back to the breathtaking Viking-vampire standing and waiting to be presented to Jean-Claude and to take his blood-oath to him.</p>
<p>He couldn’t exactly <em> help </em> it other than keep his, er, <em> appreciation </em> off his face.</p>
<p>Since he was low-grade aroused around Jean-Claude no matter what, unless the circumstances were dire or otherwise consuming all of his attention, even his scent - hopefully - shouldn’t be giving him away.</p>
<p>But with Jean-Claude hooked into Harry’s head and emotions through their marks, the Master vampire was <em> well aware </em> of how much of Harry’s internal dialogue and processes and instincts never made it into his face, voice, body, or scent where others who didn’t have the inside view would be either mostly or completely unaware.</p>
<p>The Black Portraits may not have prepared him for the sort of beauty that was shockingly common in the citizens of St. Louis’s preternatural community, but they hadn’t left him floundering in any other way - not yet - from their years of instruction. He didn't consider his lack of Healer training their fault, or a lack in their instruction as other than healing his own minor scrapes there wasn't a safe way for them to teach him that subset of skills beyond diagnostics and how best to use potions. Adding in some first-aid from the muggle world had helped, but Harry would never make a Healer even if Sirius had mentioned giving him some practice with Auror-grade healing and first-aid spells. Otherwise, the Portraits had done their best to prepare him to take on <em>any</em> world, and when it came to playing politics done a better job than just about anyone else could've managed, even if the politics he'd landed himself in weren't the sort that they'd been thinking of at the time.</p>
<p>When it came to keeping up a “proper” pureblood’s implacable mask, he managed better than most especially as he came off as affable or likable instead of icy or haughty like so many purebloods.</p>
<p>The Viking <em> was </em> beautiful, anyone would say so even if they didn’t care for his particular “type” much like Jean-Claude or Nathaniel.</p>
<p>Moreover, it was a beauty all his own, as different from Jean-Claude’s and Nathaniel’s as each was from the others.  No one would try and switch the Viking’s dark copper hair with Nathaniel’s true crimson, nor his leaf-green eyes for Jean’s dark sapphire.  All of them were distinct and breathtaking in their own ways.</p>
<p>Though as the pair of new vampires coming to join Jean-Claude’s court stood side-by-side, it was easy to see that they were related in some fashion, in the cheekbones in particular.</p>
<p>The blond - <em> Perrin</em>, according to his introduction - was all lean features and muscle over bone.  Stark, handsome bones, but there was little softness in his face with his deep-set brown eyes and thin mouth.  The sharp, high cheekbones and strong jaw he shared with the vampire at his side made Harry think that either they were half-brothers, full-brothers taking strongly after a single parent each, or perhaps cousins.</p>
<p>Kinship, when it was staring right at you, was hard to ignore especially in vampires since from what Harry had been told a vampire turning more than one person at a time was rather rare, let alone for them to be family rather than lovers, which <em> had </em> been done if not often.</p>
<p>Harry would weigh the pair as older than Nikolaos but younger than Janos, a range between over a thousand but less than three thousand but far closer to the former than the latter - which, yep, <em> Vikings so 1,000-1,200 was most likely </em>- but not masters in their own rights.</p>
<p>But he thought the potential <em> might </em> be there, even if he couldn’t pinpoint why.</p>
<p>Harry’s redhead - <em> Damian </em> - was a couple inches shorter than Perrin, though both were taller than Jean-Claude given that the step his vampire stood on was a six-inch riser and he appeared equal in height to the taller of the two, putting Perrin at about six-four with Damian coming in at maybe six-one or six-two, but otherwise their builds were identical.</p>
<p>Long arms and legs, strong bodies from being warriors, yeah, Harry had no problem imagining why Jean-Claude had been interested in bringing them into his court.</p>
<p>It was how <em> cautious </em> Damian in particular seemed to be when Jean-Claude made a cut on his wrist and offered it first to Perrin and then to Damian to seal their oaths and lock them under his protection as the Master of the City that Harry was concerned about.  Perrin was the clear leader of the pair - perhaps a trend that has continued since their mortal lives - and it took a barely-there nudge from him to prompt Damian into accepting the blood-oath.  Curiouser and curiouser.  They came to Jean-Claude willingly or Harry would eat his boots, but there was a hesitation over putting himself under Jean’s control that he would bet had nothing to do with <em> Jean </em> and everything to do with Jean being a <em> master. </em></p>
<p>A thought that had his bond with Jean-Claude lightening with approval, so he was betting he knew the story - and as a result was patient over the subordinate vampire hesitating.</p>
<p>Whether Jean-Claude shared it with him was another matter, but he wasn’t surprised that he knew in advance what to expect if he was honestly welcoming them and not showing - or feeling - an ounce of hesitation himself over having them in his territory and under his control.</p>
<p>As they made their oaths, Harry thought that they might be Danes - <em> how </em> Perrin had retained his accent a thousand-or-so years in was a mystery, but it was just a kiss of it and Jean-Claude still sounded French six hundred years after being turned so maybe it was a vampire thing?  Did the “freezing” thing affect their speech patterns?  Food for thought certainly, even if it wasn’t <em> that </em> important in the scheme of things except for maybe trying to place a vampire’s origins.</p>
<p>Especially since Damian’s accent was a bit softer than Perrin’s but still there as well.</p>
<p>Because he wasn’t attractive enough <em> already</em>, damn it.</p>
<p>The oath that Jean-Claude had this pair take was different than that some of the other vampires had sworn, but similar to that his own progeny had taken when they’d reaffirmed their oaths to Jean as not only their maker but also their Master of the City.</p>
<p>It went: “Do you swear by the blood that you renounce the sovereignty of your former Masters, that you will acknowledge me as your new Master without reservation, and will obey my commands, follow my laws, and serve faithfully as a member of my court?”</p>
<p>Perrin didn’t hesitate, his firm “I swear by the blood,” and then drinking from Jean-Claude’s wrist crisp and clean.</p>
<p>When Robert had been made to do this before everyone who knew of his transgression, the bit about renouncing had been absent, and rather than <em> new Master </em> he’d said <em> supreme Master </em> but Harry had a feeling that even that much was a change and part of Robert’s ongoing punishment for thinking with his cock instead of his head leading to Jean-Claude’s capture and temporary confinement by Nikolaos.</p>
<p><em> “It is because they were taken from their Master and Sourdre de Sang,” </em> Jean-Claude whispered in Harry’s mind, feeling his curiosity about the all-encompassing blood oath.  <em> “She abused her court severely.  Damian was on the verge of snapping utterly before the Council interceded and removed them.  As it stands, when Perrin is away from his side he panics and fears that Moroven carried through on her threat to let him burn in the sun.” </em></p>
<p><em> “Let him burn in the sun?” </em>  Harry was kinda confused by that.  It seemed an odd choice for a punishment if death was what this Moroven had been after.  Though very abuser standard, using one to control the other.  It would make more sense to threaten to set him on literal fire since any vampire would go up like a firecracker at a kiss of flame, something about them serving as magical accelerants with only a tiny window to douse themselves before they hit critical mass and burnt alive.</p>
<p>Jean-Claude explained: “<em>Moroven’s line are daywalkers - or have the potential to be.  If they held her hands and borrowed from her power, Perrin and Damian could bask beneath the sun.  She tortured them with it, threatening to let go or even doing so without warning before saving them once more.” </em></p>
<p>Harry’s disgust at this <em> Moroven </em> was immediate and instinctual over that sort of abusive bullshit behavior.  It wasn’t just physical, it was clearly psychological.  Though in the wake of Jean-Claude’s explanation, Harry at least understood Damian’s reluctance to put himself under the power of another, even if without being a master vampire himself he had no way to wake from his daily death otherwise.</p>
<p>That took a level of trust - both in Perrin, who seemed on the surface the less damaged of the two, and in Jean-Claude who was taking a risk taking them on from what Harry could tell - that Harry didn’t know if he’d manage to scrape up under similar circumstances.</p>
<p>Jean-Claude stepped back up to the top level of the dais once the pair were blood-oathed, holding out his hand in a motion and cue in a dance that the two of them had perfectly timed by now, having run through it over and over again.</p>
<p>The blood-oathing went the same - with only changes in the wording of the oath itself - every time.</p>
<p>New vampires presented themselves in groups anywhere from a pair like these age-old friends and kinsmen to as many as could reasonably fit in the audience chamber without crowding.  The vampires introduced themselves, usually in order of precedence, then Jean-Claude took their oaths in turn.  There was no need to introduce Jean-Claude.</p>
<p>If they didn’t <em> already </em> know what they were getting into, there was no hope for them anyway and they deserved whatever repercussions came from either their laziness or their idiocy, whichever was the cause of them <em> not knowing </em> who the Master of the City now was.</p>
<p>The oaths finished, then Jean-Claude would step back and hold out his hand, Harry would take it, and Jean would run down both his introduction to Harry, Harry’s status, and the basic orders that every vampire under his purview had to adhere to.</p>
<p>It was a short list, it had to be said, but it was <em> iron-clad </em> and left his subordinate vampires with little wiggle room to work around both his orders and their oaths.</p>
<p>“This is <em> mon sorcier, </em> Hari Potter.”  Jean-Claude reiterated for the twentieth or so time.  “His will is an extension of <em> my </em> will, his word the same as my own.  Disobey either at your own peril as I will <em> not </em> step in to alleviate a just punishment levied by my human servant if he find you in contempt of <em> either </em>of us or our orders.”</p>
<p>In wordless threat of the <em> kind </em> of punishment they might be in for, Harry wordlessly summoned his silver knife - the only silver allowed beyond the entrance points of the caverns being that which he carried in personally, the same with fire starters of any kind though fire <em> arms </em> were keyed to specific guards - and twirled it through his fingers in a flashy show before banishing it back to its holster in his left boot.</p>
<p>“I do not restrict feeding in my territory, not of any kind, however <em> consent </em> without rolling is required.”  Jean-Claude was firm on this matter more than any other.  “We follow human laws as much as possible.  Gaining legal status has given us <em> opportunities </em> I am loath to lose because of an underling’s <em> intemperance</em>, am I clear?”</p>
<p>“We understand.”  The Danish former-Vikings shared a glance and a nod in unison then spoke together - an ability to synchronize after spending so long together that tended to <em> perturb </em> those not expecting it.</p>
<p>Harry thought it was hilarious, especially when it visibly freaked out the silvery-blonde vampiress he’d found out was named <em> Gretchen </em> in the modern day that Jean-Claude always called <em> Gretel </em> to keep her in line and always looked like she’d claw Harry’s eyes out if it wouldn’t cost her her head for it.</p>
<p>Jean-Claude was also amused as Harry felt their bond turn pinkish-peach, which didn’t surprise him.</p>
<p>Gretchen’s attitude was just one of many that he’d had to weather and weigh dealing with directly against solidifying his control of the city.</p>
<p>Fortunately for him, Harry had no problem holding his own against one bitchy vampire Malfoy-wannabe.</p>
<p>Harry felt an itch to <em> do something </em> with the thrum of anger he’d felt at hearing of the abuse Perrin and Damian had gone through, and thankfully they were almost done running down the “don’ts” of living in St. Louis under Jean-Claude’s banner.</p>
<p>He sent a question down his bond with Jean-Claude and was met with what he’d tentatively call intrigued approval for his plan.</p>
<p>Sending one more look running up and down Damian as he held in a sigh, Harry bolted as soon as he was released at Jean-Claude’s nod, grabbing one of the Head of Day Security candidates - the one that didn’t spike his danger-meter - and going off in search of first Jason and then one of the workout rooms that Jean-Claude had had put together for everyone who lived in the caverns whether shifter or vampire to use.</p>
<p>Not all vampires took advantage of them from what Jean-Claude had confided, nor did he really expect them to, especially the ones who weren’t fighters, as there was no benefit or purpose otherwise given their frozen states.</p>
<p>The shifters on the other hand <em> did </em> appreciate the gesture especially those like Jason and Stephen who’d moved into the caverns to serve as blood donors to the St. Louis kiss.</p>
<p>Some of the shifters only served a single vampire, like the trio “gifted” to Jean-Claude for his personal needs, while others were willing to feed any of the vampires who swore oaths to Jean-Claude or stayed on hand in case of an emergency.</p>
<p>Much like the improved <em> appearance </em> of the caverns, Jean-Claude had seen fit to improve their livability for mortals as well - a fact that wasn’t lost on the shifters.</p>
<p>Or Harry for that matter.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>Jean-Claude bid farewell to the pair of visitors, then led his two new - and <em> strong</em>, either of them was easily as strong a vampire as a young or weak master despite not being masters themselves - subordinates back to his private office.</p>
<p>He hadn’t foreseen the need to have a private discussion with either of them so soon, wanting the pair to settle in and become accustomed to a court with a...<em> looser </em> atmosphere than the all-encompassing control and fear that Moroven preferred, but God did so like to make fools of those who made plans.</p>
<p>As he surely hadn’t foreseen his Harry’s reaction to Damian, nor Harry’s <em> reaction </em> to Jean-Claude’s instinctive hesitation over having his partner <em> appreciating </em> another vampire in front of him.</p>
<p>It was a potential landmine that Jean-Claude needed to defuse as soon as possible, before it blew them - or their bond - to pieces or the mild frustration that was simmering under Harry’s seeming placid exterior turned into full-blown outrage.</p>
<p>“Damian.”  He called out after finishing with covering the various guidelines - but not actual <em> rules </em> - he preferred his people to follow.  Right at the top of which was not trading on sex or using their bodies to leverage power.  He’d played whore for the Council far too long against his will to have his own people acting the same.  “Consent or refuse at your wish, however, if <em> mon petit sorcier </em> approaches you, do so with the knowledge that there will be no repercussions for either decision.  I do not police his bed nor does he mine.  Your worth to me or place in my court does not depend on your choice either way.”</p>
<p>He won’t <em> gain </em> status in his court for either choice, but given that Jean-Claude had just finished making it clear that his court was to run on his people’s skills and talents - and not those in sexual matters - he didn’t feel the need to beat a dead horse.</p>
<p>Jean-Claude dismissed the pair to be shown their accommodations - both were to take positions as guards, given their <em> significant </em> skills in combat - by Aubrey who as always shadowed him during the night hours unless set another task.</p>
<p>It was a shame that Aubrey hadn’t the power to take the <em> actual </em> position of Second in his court, but Jean-Claude was inclined to keep him on as a kind of assistant once one was chosen regardless.</p>
<p>Originally that honor was to go to Robert, but recent events had made it an <em> unearned </em> honor.</p>
<p>No, Robert would remain at <em> Guilty Pleasures </em> as the on-site manager - a severe step down from Jean-Claude’s right hand - and Aubrey would gain the place at Jean-Claude’s side.</p>
<p>Such was how he wanted his court to function and as always: it was best to start as he meant to go on, his fondness for his progeny aside.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>“What are we doing?”  Jason asked with one of his infectious sunshine grins.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, Harry wasn’t in the mood to <em> smile. </em></p>
<p>He was in the mood to fuck or fight, and given the givens the first wasn’t on the menu.</p>
<p>Harry needed to figure out how strong he was now that the marks had been completed and no one was - actively - gunning for his head.</p>
<p>Frustration just gave him an excuse to find out.</p>
<p>“Practicing.”  Harry bit out, eyeing up the pair of shifters.  “We’re going to find out just <em> how much </em> extra strength and stamina the marks gave me.”</p>
<p>The other shifter, a big bruiser of a hyena who Harry had had to hit <em> twice </em> with Stunners to take down when he assaulted the caverns to give an assassin hired by Jean-Claude a distraction, just nodded in agreement.</p>
<p>Ares was quiet, one of the things Harry liked about him, but he didn’t set off any warnings in Harry’s instincts the way the other contender for Head of Day Security, one of Rafael’s alpha wererats named Bobby Lee did.  Like all the werehyenas under their Oba Narcissus, Ares had taken a new name when he was turned and came under their authority, and cut all ties to his former life.  Considering that his former life according to Jean-Claude’s background check had been as a former Marine Scout-Sniper who’d turned his skills into being a mercenary specializing in shifters - until a werehyena turned his own tactics against him - that wasn’t a bad thing.</p>
<p>It also made Harry <em> seriously </em> question what was up with Bobby Lee, that <em> he </em> rattled Harry’s cage and inspired wariness but Ares <em> didn’t. </em></p>
<p>“Good choices.”  Ares elaborated when Jason just looked confused about why <em> he </em> was there as Ares’s presence was an obvious choice.  Werehyena alphas were rare and always ended up leading clans of their own, unable to coexist with each other the way other shifter species could.  Starting out with testing Jean-Claude’s human servant against regular shifters was the smart choice before throwing him into the ring with alphas despite rumors saying that Burchard had been more than able to hold his own against any level of shifter.  “You’re not a fighter, I am.  Sub,” Ares tilted his head towards the smaller wolf, then tapped himself on the chest.  “Dom.  Keep the claws away and we’ll get a good look at how Harry here is going to match up in brute strength against anyone but an alpha.”</p>
<p>From a security standpoint it was an important piece of information to know, made figuring out how to disperse guards and resources during an attack easier to figure.</p>
<p>Which Ares in turn figured that Harry already knew.</p>
<p>“Don’t you want to change?”  Jason asked, eyeing Harry’s silk and leather in concern.</p>
<p>Harry just shrugged, stripping off the shirt and sending it away to the hamper in Jean-Claude’s room and calling it good.</p>
<p>“No point.”  He said.  “If someone wants to throw down, they’re not going to wait for me to swap into sweats.”</p>
<p>Since Jason was already dressed for a night in, not working that night at the strip club, he didn’t have the same issue of tight leather pants to work around.</p>
<p>Not that it mattered, all of them quickly saw, as while Jason had Harry beat hands-down in flexibility and a shifter's innate reflexes plus Jason's own dancer-trained kind of twistiness, Harry ran literal <em> rings </em> around him in every other way.</p>
<p>Including managing to pick him up when he went for a kick to Harry’s head by the ankle and knee and <em> launching </em> the blond wolf at the far wall, padded to cushion just such a move.</p>
<p>Jason actually <em> giggled </em> while he was in the air, spinning so that he hit the ground on his hands and knees, then made a show of tapping three times on the padded floor.</p>
<p>“I’m out.”  He said with an exaggerated pout.  “I’m a lover not a fighter.”</p>
<p>Both members of his audience scoffed at his little act, though that certainly didn’t stop him from staying and taking in the show.</p>
<p>Ares came with quite a few advantages over Harry that were easy even for a non-fighter like Jason to see.  Not the least of which were his vastly superior height and reach, Ares with his military-short hair cut and sun-baked tan standing almost a whole <em> foot </em> taller than either Jason or Harry at six foot five inches.  With long arms to match his height and a lot of working muscle, Jason wouldn’t willingly step into a fight with the werehyena.</p>
<p>A bedroom maybe, he was a gruff sort of handsome, but not a fight on the opposite side of the former Marine.</p>
<p>“Thanks for the warm-up, Jason.”  Harry told him kindly even as he and Ares started to circle each other.</p>
<p>“No problem.”  Jason waved, then took turns cheering on first one of them and then the other as they feinted and dodged and tested each other in a dance of an entirely different kind than what Jason preferred.</p>
<p>They were on their seventh round with an even score when Jason started to see where one was outmatched by the other, which was around the time his master came up behind him and ruffled his hair, Jean-Claude joined by Aubrey and Bobby Lee in coming to check on the trio.</p>
<p>“Three to three.”  Jason reported with a smile even as he made sure to keep Aubrey and his master between him and the alpha wererat.  “They’re going for a tie breaker now.”</p>
<p>“Mmm.”  Jean-Claude hummed, Aubrey and Bobby Lee studying the pair with calculation as neither of the combatants seemed tired.  “How were they previously?”</p>
<p>“Even match, until now.”  Jason admitted with a shrug.  “I guess that training of his wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”</p>
<p>“Now now, <em> mon pomme.” </em>  Jean-Claude chided him as Ares - being the “him” in question - shot the smaller shifter a scathing glance.  "<em>Mon petit sorcier </em>is hardly a novice himself."  Or so it seemed to Jean-Claude's discerning eye when combined with the ease his Harry had worn a rapier into battle for all that he hadn't bared the blade.</p>
<p>Which cost Ares dearly as Harry pounced on the split-second of distraction and had him pinned, one hand in a position that made it clear if he’d used his ever-present knife that it was a certain defeat for any shifter.</p>
<p>“You’ve had training.”  Ares said, though it was a statement of fact, not an accusation.  “Not military.”</p>
<p>“No, not military.”  Harry readily agreed, even as he came up and offered Ares his hand.  “Dueling, fencing, boxing, that sort of thing.  Add in some better-than-shifter,” he shot Jean-Claude a glance, the master vampire taking that in with a considering nod.  “Speed and strength and even military training wasn’t going to help without using weapons.”</p>
<p>“You are certain?”  Jean-Claude checked, both shifters chiming in with their evaluations when Harry merely nodded.</p>
<p>“Tossed me like Ulfric and just as easy.”  Jason smiled, far too happy over going flying when he’s been a pest for Harry to be certain he was entirely sane.</p>
<p>“Hits harder than Oba, moves faster than them too.”  Ares chewed on something then admitted: “probably need to test ‘im against the Rom or the alpha wolves to be sure before tossin’ vampires at ‘im.”</p>
<p>Since shifters could be faster and/or stronger than the average vampire, depending on the shifter in question, it was a solid suggestion for testing how much Harry has taken from the marks.</p>
<p>“Guess we know what I got first.”  Harry commented, ignoring the <em> looks </em> he was getting from both Jean-Claude <em> and </em> Jason as his skin dripped sweat after sparring at shifter-strength and speed for the better part of two hours.</p>
<p>“My business is finished for the night, <em> mon petit sorcier.” </em>   Jean-Claude said rather than address the sparring partner issue.  He would see what could be done, though Ares would likely make a good trainer for technique, for allowing him the full breadth of his new power it would likely be best to have someone who his Harry wouldn’t have to worry about <em> breaking </em> as he learned to control it flawlessly in a fight.  “Shall we?”</p>
<p>In answer, Harry merely snapped his fingers and was clean and dry, then came to his side and tucked his arm through Jean’s own, allowing the master vampire to escort him back to his - well, <em> their </em> if Jean-Claude got his way - suite.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>They came together in a conflagration like wildfire after a lightning strike.</p>
<p>Time and distance and circumstances and propriety had ground them down to base need and desire.  Eroding patience and smothering restraint.  All that was left was the vibrant lust and passion for life each held close inside.</p>
<p>That had drawn the other’s attention in the first place when looks alone wasn’t worth what they would risk to have the other for a night let alone to keep.</p>
<p>Jean-Claude and Harry had been flirting with forever the moment they saw each other.</p>
<p>They just hadn’t <em> known </em> it until Jean’s fangs had buried themselves in Harry’s throat: a business transaction and political expedience flipped on its head with a rush of Harry’s blood and the roar of Jean-Claude’s <em> ardeur. </em></p>
<p><em> This </em> time when the <em> ardeur </em> flowed out of Jean-Claude and pulled with greedy talons, Harry knew it for what it was and didn’t falter, not hesitating despite having finished with Jean-Claude inside him only moments before to flip them both over and change positions, riding his vampire lover to another brutal orgasm while his breath was still panting from the last one.</p>
<p><em> “What a greedy little monster you are, mon trésor.” </em>   Jean-Claude murmured as he gripped the fiery wizard’s hips and planted his feet on the bed beneath them before bucking up with his hips, meeting every rolling motion of Harry’s hips and torso with a thrust of his own.  <em> “Vous êtes exquis dans votre passion.  J'en aurai la moindre goutte de vous.” </em></p>
<p>If Harry felt a moment of smugness over making Jean-Claude lose his English and revert back to French, it was only for a split second as no sooner had it come then it was gone like so much ephemera as Jean-Claude angled himself just <em> so </em> and with one, two, three precise thrusts of his well-proportioned cock had Harry slipping back over the edge and tumbling down into another climax.</p>
<p>Harry leaned forward, not minding the mess he’d made of their chests and stomachs for a moment, and rested his head in the crook of Jean-Claude’s neck and shoulder.</p>
<p>They rested, Harry breathing as he felt the fire and burn of their combined lust and Jean-Claude’s <em> ardeur </em> die down for a moment but not extinguish completely.</p>
<p>Jean-Claude lifted Harry a moment, sliding free of his lover’s hot rear passage as he allowed his body to grow quiescent at his command to give his human - or whatever species he was - rest.</p>
<p>It might be the vampire way to fuck continuously without respite, but even the strongest non-vampire stamina needed a rest now and again unless it was the intention of the vampire to use them up until there was nothing left for them to give.</p>
<p>Some of his line were that way: Jean-Claude was not one of them.</p>
<p><em> His </em> little monster however, it seemed didn’t need much in the way of a rest at all, as within minutes he was turning in Jean-Claude’s arms and settling himself between the cradle of Jean’s strong horseman’s thighs with an inquiring brush sent down their bond as he braced himself over the vampire.</p>
<p>His little monster was also <em> flexible </em> in more than one way it seemed.</p>
<p>My my.</p>
<p>Jean-Claude <em> was </em> quite the lucky vampire, or so it seemed his luck had turned in his favor at last.</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>In the quiet moments when their passions were sated for a brief time before roaring back to life with a look or a touch, they spoke in soft voices but not often about soft things.</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>
  <em>"Do you miss your home, your people?"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Not as much as I missed Sirius.  I traded them for him, and I don't regret it for a moment."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"What was that about with Cynbel?"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I was the first to willingly break away from Belle Morte, the head of our bloodline, but I wasn't the last.  I do not believe she will ever forgive me for that, even though she regained me for a time.  Cynbel was wiser.  Used the strife and struggle for prominence among the Council to his benefit when he fell in love with one of the Dragon's favored progeny five hundred years ago..."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"This will not be forever, mon trésor, in time things will settle and our hours will become more our own."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I knew it there would be work to be done, Jean-Claude, I'm not sorry I helped you rise and pomp and ceremony is only a part of that I knew was coming.  I don't regret it, even when you put me in clothes designed to make a display of me."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"A deadly, beautiful display, mon petit monstre.  Never anything less."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"The first time a vampire gets handsy and forgets that first bit I'm going to make them regret it."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I would expect nothing less.."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Are you sure you don't mind?"</em>
</p>
<p><em>"As long as he doesn't try and advance himself through you: non, there is nothing to mind.  On the contrary, with so much beauty in one bed, I would </em>very<em> much be interested in watching, if he is inclined to such."</em></p>
<p>
  <em>"I thought you wanted to watch me and Rafael, or join us even?"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Beautiful men are beautiful men.  So long as all are eager and willing, I see no problem at all..."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>...</em>
</p>
<p><em>"You're feeding the </em>ardeur<em> though me aren't you?"</em></p>
<p>
  <em>"Not on purpose, not intentionally but: oui."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"How can that be?"</em>
</p>
<p><em>"I have the full </em>ardeur<em> the only one of Belle Morte's line to ever gain the entirety of it.  A terrible, hungry thing that never rests and must always be fed lest it take measures to feed itself.  There was a risk of it passing to you, but that you feel it </em>separate<em> from you and coming only from myself through our bond suggests otherwise.  It may be that a portion of it comes to fruition in you in time, or all, or none at all.  What is happening </em>now<em> on the other hand is a quirk of our bond I did not know to expect..."</em></p>
<p><em>"It's automatic isn't it?  Something about the way the bond formed between us engages your </em>ardeur<em> to feed through me.  Like a check on it to keep it sated and protect you from being forced by it into ugly acts against your will."</em></p>
<p>
  <em>"I believe so, yes."  A pause.  "I also believe, mon trésor that if there was ever a one who had a chance of refusing it, or blocking it in some manner, it would be you..."</em>
</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>“You worry too much, Siri.”  Harry said over the phone as he stepped outside the caverns and into the bright late-August sun.</p>
<p>He and Jean-Claude hadn’t <em> quite </em> been up through the <em> whole </em> day, but he was pretty sure that was only because Harry had an important night’s work ahead of him.</p>
<p>If last night-this-morning was any sign, he <em> had </em> been right about one thing: the sex was genuinely, absolutely, <em>catastrophically </em>fantastic.</p>
<p>Jean-Claude wasn’t just out-of-this world beautiful, he was also an extraordinary lover, with literal centuries of practice under his belt in a carnally-driven society - which wasn’t necessarily a good thing based on some of their pillow-talk as Harry started to snap more and more pieces of the puzzle that was Jean-Claude’s past into place.</p>
<p>Rafael was <em> earthy </em> in a way that Jean-Claude wasn’t, but he more than made up for it for a superhuman ability to seek out and exploit every last sweet spot on Harry’s body and wring them for maximum pleasure.</p>
<p>If it weren’t for healing potions, Harry was dead <em> certain </em> he wouldn’t be walking straight, but with what was happening that night he couldn’t afford any weaknesses.</p>
<p>Even though he’d wanted to <em> enjoy </em> the burn from being well-fucked and sated for as long as it lasted.</p>
<p>For that <em> alone </em> Harry would be willing to go a round with this problematic lupa.</p>
<p>He should be enjoying afterglow, damnit!  Not preparing to deal with pack issues.</p>
<p>But regardless: a deal <em> was </em> a deal.</p>
<p>And the sooner that this one was finished with Marcus the happier he’d be.</p>
<p><em> “You’re neck-deep in vampire court politics, pup.” </em>   Sirius’s voice didn’t lose an ounce of sarcasm for being over the phone.  <em> “I’m allowed to worry.” </em></p>
<p>
  <em> “You're the one who introduced me to vampires, remember?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Much as I wish otherwise, yes I do.”  A sigh.  “Just be careful, much as I feel like a broken record saying it again and again.  From what I’ve heard this Wallis is a real piece of work.  Sure you don’t want backup?” </em>
</p>
<p><em> “I can manage one wolf bitch, Padfoot.”  </em> Harry squinted, tilted his head back and soaking in the sun, <em> feeling </em> Jean-Claude’s pleasure as the vampire used their link to feel it also through him.</p>
<p>Which was another thing, and one that he wasn’t about to share with even Sirius.</p>
<p>It seemed Jean-Claude being able to stay awake and aware using the bond wasn’t a one-off thing.  No, he’d actually <em> slept </em> beside Harry before waking in unison with him when Harry’s alarm he’d set on his wand went off.  Whatever it was he was drawing on they still weren’t sure, but it seemed as far as his lover at least was concerned, Harry had gained the ability to hold back the dawn.</p>
<p>Here’s hoping that if it was ever discovered to be so that he didn’t burn for it in turn.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>New French in this chapter:</p>
<p>Mon tresor - my treasure.</p>
<p>Vous êtes exquis dans votre passion. - You are exquisite in your passion.</p>
<p>J'en aurai la moindre goutte de vous. - I would have every drop of it from you.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Honor Bound</b> </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Chapter Five: Lupanar</b>
</p><p>Harry steered his motorcycle into the parking lot behind the sporty little coupe that he was <em> utterly </em>unsurprised to find out Jean-Claude had bought for Jason for when the wolf needed to get around the city.</p><p>Or in this case, to take some of the wolves who lived beneath the Circus to the Lupanar.</p><p>After discussing the matter with Marcus and Jean-Claude, it had been agreed that Harry would join the motorcade of wolves from the Circus to the Lupanar to follow Marcus’s rare New Moon call for a gathering, hiding a bit among the several vehicles though there was no hope of blending in.</p><p>His candy-apple red BMW motorcycle wasn’t exactly <em> lowkey </em> or discreet.</p><p>He was certain that Jean-Claude knew where to find the Lupanar - and given the magical saturation Harry could feel when he dismounted his bike in the parking lot, <em> he </em>probably could’ve managed it if he knew the right direction to search in - as he’d been employing wolves from the Thronnos Rokke pack as his donors since he’d arrived in St. Louis more than a century ago.</p><p>Which meant Harry would be less than shocked to feel Jean-Claude watching from the cover of the trees as Harry fulfilled his debt to the Ulfric, even if no one else ever noted his presence.</p><p>Jean-Claude had stepped back from his habit of dressing Harry, willing to bow to Harry’s insistence that the Master might know how to present him as his human servant or his lover or any of dozens of presentations to create the right impression for his court but when it came to dressing as a <em> wizard </em> the vampire had a thing or two to learn.</p><p>Though he’d certainly been intrigued as he watched Harry come out of the bathroom in their suite - <em> their suite, </em> Jean-Claude had made more than clear over the course of the night-and-day they’d spent in bed between bouts - with a bundle of clothes he hadn’t gone into the room with.  Harry probably got more entertainment out of playing around with what Jean-Claude either knew or suspected of his powers than was all that mature but he couldn’t help it.  Keeping him guessing was one of the best tools in his arsenal against Jean-Claude getting complacent.  Or worse: <em> bored. </em></p><p>That intrigue had turned to fascination when he got his eager claws on Harry’s set of dragonhide dueling robes, having only seen Harry and/or Sirius wear the material in boots and belts - and to his shock when Harry dropped the concealing spells to adjust the comfort spells on his hidden armament: <em> holsters. </em></p><p>Harry had just smiled at him when the vampire shot him a goggle-eyed look of surprise that swiftly turned consternated as he realized that despite never <em> seeing or feeling </em> any such thing on his lover, Harry carried weapons on his person at all times - even while he slept.</p><p>Leftover paranoia from going to school in the middle of a cold war that turned civil war, but it <em> had </em> saved his ass more than once so he doubted he’d ever change.</p><p>That the strange leather was <em> dragonhide </em> had been met with serious consideration and not disbelief so Harry filed that one under “things to ask Sirius” that they hadn’t yet covered about his new home.</p><p>Apparently dragons existing wasn’t out of the question as far as Jean-Claude was concerned.</p><p>Good to know.</p><p>Underwear - boxer-briefs to Jean-Claude’s pouting disappointment, as the vampire had yet to convert him to either g-strings or going without - and socks in place, Jean-Claude had handed him each piece of what amounted to wizarding armor, the look on his face making it clear that the vampire wasn’t certain if he should be turned on by the look or worried that Harry thought it necessary to begin with.</p><p>Especially since Harry hadn’t even bothered with his dueling robes to go after Nikolaos but was armoring up except for his arms from neck to ankle to perform a service for an ally.</p><p>Dragonhide trousers in a liquid dark grey-black of a Horntail went on first, then Harry slipped into his boots and slid his knife into place in the hidden holster.  A soft cotton tank top in black was pulled on and tucked in, with a protective piece of more Horntail hide like a muggle bulletproof vest was fastened into place with a spell.  And over it all came the actual dueling robes.</p><p>Sleeveless for a Blood Mage with an affinity for fire, they were ink-black with a high round collar that fastened beneath Harry’s chin and then buckles of blackened steel fastened tight over his shoulders and chest all the way to his waist where they attached to the special fasteners hidden under the belt of the trousers to create seamless protection without a single gap.  The bottom half of the robes dropped straight from his belt in wide overlapping pieces that gave the <em> appearance </em> of a single continuous, well, <em> skirt </em> but was in fact panels that when he moved would flare out with hidden pieces of sharpened steel he could trigger with a spell that would lash out at anyone in range when he spun away from an attacker.  </p><p>The first time he saw himself in the full get-up he thought he was an extra from that <em> Matrix </em> movie that he saw posters for on one of his walkabouts in London, but he couldn’t deny that each piece served a purpose - above and beyond making someone with even <em> his </em> build look intimidating as hell.</p><p>One of the main differences between common dueling robes and <em> Harry’s </em> dueling robes was the protective hidden chest piece that would protect his entire torso.</p><p>Most wizards counted on the dragonhide to absorb most spells that got through their shields, but Harry when he’d been working with the Black Portraits to put the best set together from the many pieces and sets they had tucked away in the seemingly innumerable Grimmauld Place closets or even the Black Vaults, hadn’t been able to put the sight of Moony and Padfoot tussling with each other out of his mind.</p><p>Average dueling robes helped protect against spellfire but they didn’t do <em> shit </em> for impact injuries.</p><p>With his history, he wasn’t about to leave such a large weakness for others to exploit.</p><p>Potter Luck being what it was, <em> someone </em> would’ve exploited it.</p><p>Now that he ran with supernatural species capable of hitting with all the force of a Mack truck, he was happier than ever that his hard-learned paranoia had won out in the case of the chest piece and <em> wished </em> that his determination to ameliorate it hadn’t resulted in him leaving the rest of the “old fashioned” armor behind.</p><p>With vampires and shifters now a part of his daily life in a society that ran on a system of the strong lording over those weaker than themselves, he could <em> definitely </em> see where a steel gorget or greaves or vambraces could come in <em> handy </em> if a bit of overkill.</p><p>At least his boots had steel shanks and toe caps under the outer layer of dragonhide so anyone trying to take out his ankle tendons were going to regret it when he broke their ribs with a kick.</p><p>Lowering the kickstand on his bike, Harry swung easily off the leather saddle and tucked his keys away in a hidden pocket in his robes, the Ulfric immediately moving from where he’d been talking to Shang-Da - who like the rest of the wolves in or attached to the court however temporarily had the night off for pack business - arching a brow at the human’s attire.</p><p>Since the Ulfric/surgeon was wearing a repeat of his jeans and leather jacket combo, Harry didn’t think he had any place to be tossing <em> looks </em> around, even if Harry’s outfit did mark him as distinctly out of place even among what looked to be a very diverse pack.</p><p>At Marcus’s nod, Shang-Da spun and darted into the trees towards the concentration of power Harry could sense, the rest of the wolves still in the parking area following his example and leaving the pair with moderate privacy insomuch as <em> anyone </em> got privacy around super-hearers like shifters and vampires.</p><p>“It’s a couple miles to the Lupanar.”  Marcus said in preference for anything else he might’ve had on his mind when he saw Jean-Claude’s human servant who was also dating the Rom.  Both pieces of vital information he <em> had </em> to keep in mind when it came to the relatively diminutive wizard.  “Not an easy run for a human.  If you like, I can extend my wolf and help you ride my power.”</p><p>Harry merely smirked in response, reaching behind his head and lifting a hood attached to the shoulders of his outer robes, concealing his features with pure shadow.</p><p>“It’s...<em> interesting,” </em> he replied, almost letting <em> cute </em> or even <em> adorable </em> slip out but he wasn’t about to get condescending with a wolf that could probably tear him in two if he wasn’t careful and Marcus went for his blind spot.  “How you all seem to think you <em> know </em> what I can do.  I won’t need any help, but thank you the offer.”  His grin flashed white beneath the hood then he darted away at a speed that had Marcus pursing his lips and conceding the point - even if only mentally.  “Catch me if you can, <em> Ulfric.” </em></p><p>Harry locked his senses on the power of the Lupanar and the pack that was only growing as more and more of them arrived in one place, then was blind to everything else but the joy of running through the darkest night of the month, with no one to see him but the trees and sky - and then a bemused Ulfric when Marcus managed to catch him and keep pace.</p><p>Even though it took him half the run to the Lupanar to manage it.</p><p>…</p><p>As soon as Harry stepped into the clearing surrounding the Rock Throne - which was exactly like it sounded like, a rock outcropping that had been roughly carved into the shape of a throne and then had its edges worn smooth by time and the elements - he knew he’d both made the right decision to run to the Lupanar under his own power <em> and </em> that he would have to step carefully so long as he was in the clearing.</p><p>It wasn’t the hundreds of wolves gathered - less than the five-hundred plus of the Rodere but not as far <em> behind </em> them as he’d been led to believe, a secret kept as much from the other shifters in the city as it was from Nikolaos - that gave him pause.</p><p>Though that was a reason to be cautious as well.</p><p>He could more than handle a certain amount of opponents without having to start bringing out the <em> big guns </em> so to speak of his most dangerous powers but at a certain point and when dealing with other supernaturals that point was a much smaller number than it was with regular humans or even other magical people.</p><p>And mass castings without preparation <em> always </em> came with a cost that even with his new improvements Harry would be loath to pay in order to subdue such a mass of shifters without killing them, even on the new moon when lunar-controlled shifters like wolves were at their weakest.</p><p>He’d experienced more than one head-rush from intoxicating magic since arriving in his new home, none more so than taking Jean-Claude’s marks, but the sheer <em> concentration </em> of power under the soles of his boots at the Lupanar made him suck in a silent breath of shocked surprise.  It was death magic and blood magic and soul magic and sacrifice and violence and ancient rites all rolled into one.  But unlike necromancy, this wasn’t <em> corrupt </em> like so much he’d seen since coming to his world.</p><p>It was clean, natural, roiling under the ground and up <em> through </em> the Thronnos Rokke Pack like a great electrical storm with spurs latched into every member of the pack.</p><p>Some were faint, thin little things, barely a connection at all to the power, almost like a grounding line or copper filament to bleed off excess.</p><p><em> Others </em> however...they were a different story and watching as Marcus, whose connection the power of the Lupanar wasn’t faint or faltering but a massive width of cable <em> locking </em> him into the power beneath their feet, walked up onto his throne, Harry felt a shiver of relief tingle through him that he’d chosen to come down on the side of Marcus over whoever this Raina Wallis was.</p><p>Not that she was hard to find.</p><p>Standing directly opposite the Rock Throne was an attractive woman with dyed red hair, her dark roots showing under the torches that the Pack had circled the Lupanar with, about twenty wolves surrounding her like acolytes or handmaidens around a queen.  She wore leather plastered to her form in a sleeveless halter top that barely covered her nipples to what Harry was sure he’d heard Jason call <em> booty shorts </em> with thigh-high leather spike-heeled boots.  Her mouth was a crimson slash of blood red, and the leather was dyed like her hair to match.</p><p>Harry took careful note of those surrounding her, easily able to tell that her pack bonds to them were the strongest - and most poisonous - aside from her mate bond to Marcus.</p><p>Now that he had his target that wasn’t as much of an issue, even if Marcus’s part didn’t work as planned once he was locked into her - as sickening as the idea was from what he was reading off of her and getting some <em> serious </em> Bellatrix LeStrange vibes - he could tear out every last bond she possessed root and stem.</p><p>It would simply be <em> kinder </em> if Marcus could manage to at least loosen them before he went to work.</p><p>As Marcus made a show of standing and seeming to count of the pack, showing a prodigious memory as Harry certainly would’ve been lost trying to remember that many faces and names, Harry clocked where the wolves Marcus had brought with him to the Circus were located, as they numbered among them the ones Harry personally gave half a damn about.</p><p>Victor was standing below the Rock Throne with a stern look on his face and his massive arms cross over his chest, Richard mirroring him on the left side of the Throne, while both Shang-Da and Jamil along with - interestingly enough - glorious Ms. Estelle were moving to box in the clearing behind Raina’s ground with help of others who Harry had yet to meet.</p><p>Given that their powers were on a low ebb without the moon, and only Marcus and his closest and most trusted wolves knew what was going on, Harry would imagine the guns that he knew at least the pair of enforcers carried at all times were going to be a <em> serious </em> deterrent against any of Raina’s wolves trying to cause a ruckus.</p><p>Especially since to a one they were all dressed similarly - and as scantily - as their Lupa which made it more than obvious that not one of them was carrying a gun though Harry wouldn’t count out a knife or two hiding in boots or the back of belts.</p><p>“Thronnos Rokke!”  Marcus had one of those voices that carried without having to shout - and the clear authority to go with it as no sooner had he opened his mouth than the clearing went silent.</p><p>Since Harry’s arrival and lingering in the shadows of the Rock Throne - and he’d been right, he <em> felt </em> Jean-Claude high in the treetops far enough away to fool the wolf senses but well able to see with a vampire’s improved vision - had caused a furor of whispers and gossiping among the wolves who were out of the loop, he was impressed at how quickly they reacted to Marcus.</p><p>That by Raina’s sour-faced expression she’d been just as in the dark about the reason behind Harry’s presence as anyone else certainly hadn’t helped keep the whispers in check, even - or perhaps especially - among <em> her </em> wolves.</p><p>To Harry’s moderately uneducated eye, there was a clear divide in the Pack.  Raina’s wolves on one side, Marcus’s handful of loyalists - who he could feel other than Raina made up the strongest wolves in the Pack - with the bulk of the rest lingering in between.</p><p>And for some reason, he was reading Richard as being on the border of "no one's side/out for himself" and "neutral" despite him being the pack's Third, from what Harry was reading off the pack bonds without actually being connected to them.</p><p>At least seeing it for himself, he could feel at ease about what he was going to do.</p><p>Rafael’s explanations of how important and rare mate bonds were had given him second thoughts about the offer he’d made without consideration for the repercussions that would follow.</p><p>That Marcus <em> should </em> be better without her - but he very well might end up <em> worse </em> if his inner wolf didn’t see it that way and punished him for agreeing to have Harry break the bond - was the biggest potential "swing" consequence Harry hadn't thought about, but it wasn't the only one.</p><p>“I have called you here for two purposes on this New Moon night.”  Marcus continued.  “First: some of you may recognize Hari Potter, the human servant of the new Master of the City,” and <em> oh </em> Raina’s face did a complicated little dance of emotions at that Harry wasn’t sure he followed.  “As part of the new agreement between Thronnos Rokke and the Master of the City, Mr. Potter will be performing a service for the pack.  However, before it can be completed there is another act that must be done for the <em> good of the pack. </em>”</p><p>Harry watched as some of the power from the Lupanar surged at Marcus’s words, more intrigued than he’d like to admit about how the Ulfric and the Lupanar worked.</p><p>He’d never seen anything like it before, even the way he interacted with wards and natural magic and ritual magic was vastly different than <em>this.</em></p><p>He was at a loss.</p><p>And after all the work the Black Portraits had undergone to train him, he wasn’t sure to be frustrated, intrigued, or excited to find such a mysterious magic almost in his backyard - magically speaking - in his new home.</p><p>Oh yes, there was far more to the shapeshifters here than it first appeared on the surface.</p><p>And like the mystery of their magics he didn’t know whether to be fascinated or terrified at how often he was running into that same theme over and over and over again.</p><p>“Raina Wallis, come forward.”</p><p>If the silence while Marcus spoke before was expectant, with that one sentence it turned fraught with latent danger like a rattlesnake stilling its warning before a strike.</p><p>Harry counted down the seconds until it <em> clicked </em> into place for Raina as the wolf-bitch sauntered forward in a stride that he could only describe as the predatory offspring of sexuality and inherent violence.  If ever there was a female he’d seen who’d <em> weaponized </em> their sexuality, it was Raina Wallis.  It was almost impressive when one accounted for the fact that in his former world there had been species of magical humans who could <em> literally </em> weaponize attraction weather in a veela’s allure or a siren’s song, or the predatory species of mermaid that lured the unwary to watery graves.</p><p>She hit the midway mark between the Rock Throne and her supporters - or sycophants, Harry still wasn’t sure of the dynamic there - when her mouth opened.</p><p>Only no sound came out.</p><p>Harry had learned his lessons at Rafael’s side <em> well. </em></p><p>Including the fact that as long as the Lupa <em> did not or could not </em> speak then she had no recourse to halt Marcus’s plan with a roadblock or five whether by declaring herself <em> freyja </em> - essentially challenging the Ulfric’s right to her body and bed - or calling on <em> munin </em> the spirits and powers of deceased pack members, or even compelling Marcus himself to stop Harry before he could break their bond.</p><p>He was fifty-fifty on whether she could call <em> munin </em> in an innate or instinctive manner, but the rest of her options short of going straight to attacking - which was forbidden apparently without the proper rituals, while at the Lupanar at least - all required <em> speech. </em></p><p>Marcus hadn’t asked him to silence her, it hadn’t been part of the <em> deal, </em> but Harry was a suspicious little bastard when he wanted to be and he wasn’t about to take a chance on <em> either </em> of the mates in charge of the Thronnos Rokke pack backing him into a corner.</p><p>Their traditions could go <em> fuck themselves </em> if they didn’t like it.</p><p>Nothing had been said about <em> how </em> Harry was supposed to break the bond, only that he <em> did it</em>, so whatever actions he had to take to ensure that it was broken he would take.</p><p>And he didn’t give a flying fuck if Marcus or any of the other wolves had a problem with that after the fact.</p><p>“Raina Wallis, once-<em> bolverk </em> of the Thronnos Rokke pack, once-alpha female of the Thronnos Rokke pack, Mate of the Ulfric of the Thronnos Rokke pack, under the new moon sky as the Ulfric I call upon the judgement of the <em> munin </em> on this sacred ground to declare you <em> úthýst </em> for your crimes against both the wolves who <em> should have been </em> under your protection as their Alpha Female as well as the blood of innocents that coats your claws and jaws.”</p><p>Harry felt his heart threaten to stutter in his chest when silver-white ghostly spectres - <em> fucking spirits with magical fucking powers holy fucking shit - </em> that could only be the <em> munin </em> rose from the ground of the clearing and started prowling and circling both Raina and Marcus where he stood proud before the Rock Throne.</p><p>
  <em> Úthýst - outcast.   </em>
</p><p>Marcus had made an appeal - there was no other word for it - for the <em> munin </em> to decide whether Raina Wallis could be allowed to remain as a member of the Thronnos Rokke pack.</p><p>As they circled Raina one last time - some in human form, some wolves, some in the half-and-half warrior form only the strongest alphas could take on - before allying themselves left-and-right off of Marcus’s shoulders and repeating the word over and over again, until Harry thought it would thrum like a drumbeat in his head for days.</p><p>
  <em> “Úthýst úthýst úthýst úthýstúthýstúthýstúthýst.” </em>
</p><p>Outcast.</p><p>Whatever-the-fuck Raina Wallis had done - and Harry had yet to get a clear answer on that - the <em> munin </em> were severely unimpressed all the way to down-right lethally pissed off if the snarls and snaps and bared fangs and flashing claws were any sign.</p><p>“Raina Wallis.”  Cunning or not.  Survivor or not.  Resolved or not, that was honest <em> grief </em> in Marcus’s voice as he confirmed the verdict of the <em> munin </em> before the spirits dispersed with his final word on the matter.  “As Ulfric of the Thronnos Rokke Pack, I name you <em> úthýst. </em>   You are outcast.  Your pack ties are broken,” and before Harry’s magical sight most of them did just that, though Raina didn’t so much as gasp for all that her face twisted with sheer <em> hate </em> as whatever power the <em> munin </em> had held her in place.  The ones remaining of the pack bonds had to consider Raina of higher authority than their Ulfric - a fact which Harry took note of.  Marcus’s mate bond was a different matter.  “You are cast out from our territory.”</p><p>When growls and snarls sounded in an eerie rising chorus of visceral threat, Marcus raised a hand to quiet them once more.</p><p>“For the bond we shared, I withhold the hunt for twenty-four hours.  Remain within <em> our </em> territory at that time, and you will be hunted without mercy and to the death.”</p><p>At <em> death, </em> the spirits dispersed and Raina attempted to lunge and <em> leap </em> right over the head of Harry to - if he had to guess - tear Marcus limb from limb.</p><p>“Tsk.”  Harry clucked his tongue, twisting his hand in midair with his arm extended grasping what at first seemed like nothing at all to his audience and then formed a chain of rust-red as thick as his wrist.</p><p>A single <em> yank </em> of his blood-chain, which had crept up her body and shackled her ankle and wrist when she was paying more attention to her soon-to-be-former mate than the threat directly in front of her, had her falling to the ground as the chain looped and looped and swirled over her from, binding her to the ground.</p><p>“Rage is <em> dangerous </em> Ms. Wallis, for all that it can be useful at times.”  Harry lectured softly, for all intents and purposes ignoring the raptly-watching audience.</p><p>Marcus kept any of them from attacking him and that’s all he really cared about when he was otherwise detained.</p><p>“It can make you blind to lethal threats right in front of you if you’re not careful.”  Harry let out a soft whip of <em> Legilimency </em> brush against her, though he didn’t get much but a lot of rage and desire for bloodshed.  “<em>Not </em> historically a wise decision when it comes to me as the rather <em> unlamented </em> Valentine, Zachary, and Burchard can attest.”</p><p>The sad shameful truth of binding and unbinding magic was that once a witch or wizard studied it in depth, it was one of the most versatile forms of magic with the simplest principles.</p><p>What fucked people over or tripped them up was the sheer <em> power </em> it took to dominate another’s will - or heart or magic or whatever the case may be - even with the help of rituals.  There was a <em> reason </em> why the <em> Imperius </em> curse was an Unforgiveable and it had <em> everything </em> to do with how it effortlessly subjugated another’s will for the <em> small </em> consequence of seeding corruption in the user’s magical core.  Compulsion spells were similar and overuse could have the same effect as the Unforgiveable version, while potions that offered a similar effect balanced the scales of magical cost via horridly rare, dangerous, and/or expensive ingredients.</p><p>Unbinding was a thestral of a different color and the only reason it took Harry as long as it <em> did </em> to get out from under everything that had been done to <em> him </em> was because he was learning the skill completely ass-backwards.</p><p>Similar to the rules of cost and consequence that ruled binding magic, <em> un</em>binding magics were horrifically difficult to manage on oneself - which was mostly the point of them - and in the hands of someone like Harry, horrifying in their potential ease of use - a fact that he was ever-wary of.</p><p>Yes, he could and did use it as a weapon, but when he’d had Burchard and Nikolaos trapped and helpless, he hadn’t tortured them with tearing at their bonds.</p><p>He’d killed Burchard clean and to his mind with mercy.</p><p>A twist of his left hand had his silver knife sliding into place, a tug of his right had him selecting the correct bond from those remaining attached to Raina, and then with a slash of his knife coated in his magic that half-moved the knife into the metaphysical plane, the bond was cut and both former-mates let out blood-chilling <em> screams </em> though Marcus’s was quickly bit off.</p><p>Harry cauterizing the magical wound on Marcus’s end wasn’t part of the deal, but he <em> hated </em> leaving loose ends to dangle and trip him up at a later date.</p><p>Snapping his fingers he recalled his blood-chains and banished his knife, then coasted the fingers of his left hand over the small - almost imperceptible - slice below his thumb.</p><p>“Run along now, you vile cunt.”  Estelle commented with a smooth - and vicious - smile as she rattled her nails - that despite the New Moon were sharped and hardened into her wolf’s claws - after Harry stepped back and met Marcus’s gaze, nodding that it was done. The profanity perhaps far more shocking for the soft accent and gentle manners that Estelle exhibited when she wasn't actively carrying out her duties as <em>bolverk.</em>  “Clock’s ticking.”</p><p>Not one member of the pack moved - not even those whose bonds had survived if been weakened by Marcus casting her out - as Raina climbed unsteadily to her feet and ran from the clearing with all the speed she could muster.  Her will to survive taking prominence over a desire for revenge.  <em> Marcus</em>, his lapdogs, even Jean-Claude’s <em> pet </em> witch would all pay <em> dearly </em> for attempting to humiliate her and drive her off.</p><p>Raina was the strongest alpha female wolf in a generation and she <em> will not </em> be treated this way!</p><p>Harry watched her go with cold eyes, even as Marcus - a bit shaky but standing strong anyway - leapt down from the Rock Throne.</p><p>“Is it gone?”  Marcus asked out loud more for the illumination of the pack who’d been left in the dark about his plans than anything else.  From the expressions he could see and what the prevailing scents were that he could separate from the general scent pile of the pack, many of them had a damn good idea of what had gone down but he didn’t want there to be any <em> misunderstandings </em> with Raina’s favorites and the rest of the pack.  “Am I free?”</p><p>“It’s gone,” Harry nodded.  “Raina Wallis is your mate no more.  You’re free and my debt is paid.”</p><p>“It is paid.”  Marcus agreed, blinking at an almost tangible <em> snap </em> in the air between them.  Now that was something for certain.  Vows and debts weren’t just words to a wizard apparently.  Information to keep in mind.  “You and yours have upheld our agreement, the Pack shall uphold theirs.  I agree to becoming Jean-Claude’s animal to call.”</p><p>A gasp or the sound of sucked-in breaths whipped through the Pack.</p><p>It wasn’t the first time an Ulfric had agreed to such an arrangement and it wasn’t likely to be the last, but that it was <em> Marcus </em> willing to unbend enough to form that kind of bond with a master vampire - which by its very nature was a tacit <em> admission </em> that the vampire was the stronger or more powerful of the two - now <em> that </em> was a red-letter day that many of them would be marking on their calendars.</p><p>Much like him climbing down off his high horse to accept help from others in the first place.</p><p>Victor and Estelle had been surprise additions to the pack but also <em> weren’t </em> to those who remembered where Marcus had come from and who he called friends and allies.</p><p>Letting <em> Harry</em>, the human servant of the Master of the City, fuck around with his mating bond on the other hand - now <em> that </em> was something not one of them could ever think of having heard of happening before to <em>any shifter </em>no matter their status or under any circumstances.</p><p>To many of the pack, it seemed to them like Marcus had gotten a wake up call - or a boot up the ass - but either way, it wasn’t a <em> negative </em> turn of events.</p><p>Just new.</p><p>They were shifters, they adapted to change or they went mad and were put down.</p><p>And not one of them - other than a few who’d been so thoroughly fucked over by Raina’s bullshit that there wasn’t much hope for them - would weep over Raina’s banishment or be sorry to see her gone.</p><p>At Marcus’s agreement, Harry nodded then closed his eyes for a moment and made a show of <em> reporting </em> to Jean-Claude even though with the vampire watching from the trees he knew full-well what had just happened.  Even so: appearances were never more important.  Better that word spread that Harry could communicate with Jean-Claude over distances - one of the more common pieces of information that made the rounds about human servants - than allow the Pack to assume Jean-Claude didn’t trust them with his Harry.</p><p>Jean-Claude landed softly in the clearing, one hand immediately going to rest and press gently against the small of Harry’s back as he scanned the myriad faces of the Thronnos Rokke Pack before specifically giving Jason and Stephen in particular visual once-overs before exchanging nods with Marcus.</p><p><em> Is he in any state to be taking up such a charge?  </em>Jean-Claude asked his little monster.</p><p>What Marcus had undergone - willingly or not - was no <em> small </em> matter or small pain.  He’d seen shifters lose their minds or their will to live over the centuries at losing a mate.  Jean-Claude might desire to have Marcus - one of the strongest Ulfrics he’d ever seen - as his animal to call but the wolf would do no good to him if he irreparably damaged himself in the process of freeing himself from Raina or binding himself while metaphysically wounded to Jean-Claude.</p><p>The screams from Marcus and Raina alike still rang in his ears, reverberating through his memory.</p><p>Jean-Claude had not heard such soul-deep agony in many years, Nikolaos the sort to wound flesh but leave the heart and soul alone except for collateral damage from her other actions.</p><p>She had been far more tolerable than many masters to Jean-Claude for that trait alone.</p><p>Too bad that eventually the ill had outweighed the good.</p><p><em> He can handle it. </em>   Harry assured him, based on what he knew of oaths and marks in this new world.  He’d seen enough of them between his own to Jean-Claude and watching as vampire after vampire gave Jean-Claude their blood-oaths to be willing to make an educated guess on the matter.  Besides which: <em> he’s tougher than he looks.  Mild-mannered surgeon my peachy ass.  More like the proverbial iron fist who forgets his velvet glove every now and again. </em></p><p>“Are you ready?”  Harry asked for the benefit of the Pack - who shifted and crept closer, their bonds pulling them in tight in an instinctive desire to comfort their Ulfric after having to cast out his own mate for the good of the pack.</p><p>“I am.”  Marcus nodded shortly, setting his jaw and wanting the night over with.</p><p>Without further ado, Jean-Claude made a small slit in his hand below the thumb, and said his piece in the little ritual that was binding an animal to call:</p><p>“Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, breath to breath, my spirit to yours.”</p><p>Marcus took the blood, swallowing it down and repeated the phrasing as Jean-Claude’s power ripped through him like a silken whip with spike barbed tips.</p><p>“Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, breath to breath, my wolf to you.”</p><p>Harry blinked rapidly, restraining the urge to shake his head or rear back as a bond between Jean-Claude - vastly different than his own with the master vampire but with a few similarities if the, well, magical <em> feel </em> of it was any sign - and Marcus snapped into place.</p><p>It didn’t sink into the obvious <em> burn </em> in Marcus’s aura from where Harry had severed the bond to Raina and cauterized the stump rather than make him suffer through it withering away and healing in its own time, but instead almost seemed to wrap <em> around </em> Marcus almost like a, a pet snake making itself at home.</p><p>Weird.</p><p>Very cool from a magical theory point of view, but as with much in his new home <em> so fucking weird. </em></p><p>“We have an accord, <em> mon loup.</em>”  Jean-Claude announced, sounding pleased with just about everything in that moment, including himself, his Harry, his wolf, and life in general.</p><p>“That we do, Master Jean-Claude.”  Marcus gave the vampire a slow nod, then released the Pack with a few words to calm or reassure them that he was fine.</p><p>If more of them than usual made sure to brush up against him in a silent show of support, that was their own affair and not Harry’s to comment on.</p><p><em> I have an errand to run. </em>   Harry thought at his lover, gaining himself an amused lift of dark brows.  <em> Care to take my bike back to the Circus? </em>   He held up his keys in offer.  <em> I won’t be long. </em></p><p>A wicked smile curved Jean-Claude’s shapely mouth as he caught the roiling <em> seething </em> undertone hiding behind his little monster’s mask this night.</p><p><em> Naturellement, mon petit sorcier. </em>   Jean-Claude sent back, taking the keys and pressing a hot kiss to the back of Harry’s bare fingers in the process.  <em> Happy hunting. </em></p><p>…</p><p>Perrin rose for the night at the will of his new Master, finding the call to wake <em> warm </em> if imperious, and as unlike that of his former Mistress as a warm bath to a naked dip in the arctic seas of his youth.</p><p>Much like the vampires in question, he imagined.</p><p>When they’d been taken from <em> Her </em> Perrin had been fearful and was unashamed to admit it.</p><p>The stories they heard of their own kind, of demons who stalked the night and the depravities practiced by the Council, well, they were the sort to fill a vampire’s nightmares if they were capable of dreaming.</p><p>Now that he’d met them for himself, he could see where the grains of truth had come from, but like everything else they’d been taught by <em> Her </em> all if it was with an eye to keep them under control and utterly subservient to <em> Her will. </em></p><p>His young cousin had adapted to existence under <em> Her </em> rule better than he had, as was the gift of youth allowing him a malleability that Perrin no longer possessed by the time he took up leadership of their raiding band.  That it was his decision that damned them to <em> Her </em> and his decision to appeal to the Council that saved them were both truths Perrin would have to live with as long as he still rose for the night.  That Damian held neither against him even as one led them into a thousand and some years of subjugation followed by a time of fraught uncertainty when with all others his kinsman was as fierce as a great hunting cat - and often twice as wild - was a boon Perrin felt he did not deserve.</p><p>What was to be done with them was a question he heard often after they were “saved” by the Council.</p><p>They couldn’t be separated and Damian’s personality in particular made placing them under many Masters a swift way for his kinsman to meet a quick end.</p><p><em> Problem children </em> the one who saved them, called The Traveler by all, dubbed them with far too much amusement after many suggestions had been rejected.  <em> Perhaps another problem child could be the answer. </em></p><p>It was a suggestion that made no sense to Perrin but far too much to the Council.</p><p>Three nights later, Perrin and Damian woke for the night in the comfortable caverns beneath St. Louis, with the freedom to move about and do as they wished for the night.</p><p>Their Master had gifted them with several nights to become accustomed to their new home and learn all his rules and the way his court ran flawlessly before they would take their places in the rotation of the Master’s guard.</p><p>They had been fed well the previous night, allowing them to awaken leisurely before leaving their shared room - a temporary measure, or so he’d been told - instead of searching out one of the donors immediately.  <em> That </em> alone was a boon that made the uncertainty of guarding a fresh Master worth it.  Neither of them would ever have to starve ever again, unless they committed so serious an infraction that their Master was given no other option than to punish them severely.</p><p>Perrin asked the question burning at his mind as Damian rose from his coffin and set his broadsword carefully onto the lid.  That his kinsman still slept with it after more than a thousand years said more about his belief in random attacks and lack of safety than anything else ever would.  Damian was reaching for his trousers when Perrin’s words had him pausing and going stock-still in that statue-like/lifeless manner that often startled mortals.</p><p>“What are you going to do about the Master’s witch?”  Perrin asked, arching a curious brow.  “He’s a pretty one, yeah, even with the scars and marks.”</p><p>“I am unsure.”  Damian admitted, as he would to none other.  “His appeal is undeniable, yet I fear is intended as a trap for the unwary or disloyal.”</p><p>Perrin nodded slowly.  It was a grounded answer, what he’d expect from Damian when the other’s fierce temper wasn’t roused.  Almost too reasonable to be coming from Damian, to be honest.</p><p>He smirked.  “You want to bend him over that throne for everyone to see, don’t deny it.”</p><p>Damian snorted, rolling his eyes and returning to dressing as Perrin did the same.</p><p>“As if you <em> wouldn’t </em>if the offer was made.”</p><p>“Ah, but it wasn’t made to <em> me.</em>”  Perrin reminded him, then shrugged the matter off.  “A matter for another time.”  He clapped his hands together then slung an arm around his kinsman’s shoulders.  “Come, the night is young, the city is alive, and there are a great many mortals who <em> curiosity </em> about our kind I am <em> dying </em> to sate.”</p><p>“Be careful you don’t choose the wrong mortal, or you just might at that."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>New French/untranslated French this chapter:</p><p>Naturellement - naturally.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger/Content Warning for: prejudicial language, Raina being Raina, slurs of various types including homophobic language, abduction, forced potioning, interrogation, mild torture, discussion of: violence, coerced sexual acts, forced sexual acts and violence including rape and murder and the filming/profiteering there of; sexual slavery, abusive/forced BDSM relationships.</p><p>I *think* I got all the TW/CW up there, but if I missed something let me know.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Honor Bound</b> </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Chapter Six: <em>Damnatio Memoriae</em></b>
</p><p>Harry tried not to resent the fact that everyone around him - maybe even Sirius - seemed to know what Raina’s actual crimes were.  Crimes worthy of being outcast by both her Ulfric <em> and </em> her mate for all that they were one and the same man and yet refused to breathe a <em> word </em> of what they were to him.  As if he was so delicate or fragile that he couldn’t withstand hearing a bit of ugliness.  As if he couldn’t <em> handle </em> whatever it was she’d done that had set most of the supernatural community in St. Louis against her and instilled fear - if not all out terror - in the rest.</p><p>Or perhaps it wasn’t him they were trying to protect at all, depending on the sort of foulness it took to so thoroughly corrupt a person that it poisons all connected to them.</p><p>Perhaps it was the city itself they were trying to protect from <em> him </em> and what they feared <em> he </em> might do when they told him what they knew.</p><p>What they’d allowed to go on because Marcus refused to remove her and no one else had the power to move openly against her.</p><p>It wasn’t like Jean-Claude didn’t keep an assassin <em> on retainer </em>or anything.</p><p>Or that the moment Marcus was given a <em> hint </em> of a direction to turn instead of spinning in circles that he’d leapt on it and run full-tilt towards it.</p><p>Not that it mattered.</p><p>They didn’t want to tell him?</p><p>He’d find out for <em> himself, </em>thank you very much.</p><p>Harry would be the first person to admit that magic in this world - especially wizarding magic - was <em> cheating. </em></p><p>Without the Ministry of Magic to contain them, without the Statue of Secrecy to keep them hidden and fearful of muggles, with magic in the open and only having to avoid a few hardline laws about what he should under no circumstances <em> get caught </em> using magic for, Harry and Sirius had a stark advantage over almost every other species in their new home.</p><p>This world was their playground and for all that Harry would pass on being in danger every other week, he couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy the carte blanche it gave him to spread his wings and just <em> live </em> without fear that some manipulative wanker with more power than sense was going to try and ruin his life because he was born on a certain day.</p><p>It allowed him to do things like run through a forest until he was out of sight of the werewolves and then toss the power of the Cloak around him - something he’d figured out he could do on accident one day while waiting on a vampire delegation - then apparate away in midstep.</p><p>Harry landed in a dark alleyway, having followed the tracker he’d planted on his prey.</p><p>He was impressed despite himself at the distance she’d managed to cross in so little time, less than an hour having passed since Raina had been banished from the Lupanar, and yet she was already back in St. Louis proper and heading for the University District.</p><p>Pity about her temper though, as hypocritical as it might be for him to judge anyone else on such a thing, since as he’d warned her: it can make one <em> blind </em> to what was right in front of them.</p><p>An alpha werewolf even without the boost from being bonded to an Ulfric and able to pull on the power of the Pack, Raina <em> should </em> have been able to hear him come up behind her and Stun her, even if he did the latter wandlessly.  Oh well.  He wrinkled his nose at her crumpled form, looking around the alleyway for surveillance before dropping a portkey on her.</p><p>Her mistake, his opportunity.</p><p>Personally, if <em> he’d </em> pissed off that many werewolves, he would’ve taken the out Marcus gave her and bolted before word spread of the events at the Lupanar - as it was an edict that only stood for <em> the Pack</em>.</p><p>Not a single thing about it would carry over to anyone <em> else </em> who followed the rules - spoken and unspoken - in the supernatural society of the city from using the short window Marcus granted her to take their own revenge for whatever crime or slight she might have visited on them whether real or imagined.</p><p>That Harry got to her first was both a blessing and a curse for Ms. Raina Wallis.</p><p>After all: he wasn’t one to play with his food.</p><p>But depending on what he found after he tested out how this world’s werewolves responded to <em> Veritaserum </em> - and barring that <em> Legilimency </em> - he <em> was </em> one to play judge, jury, and executioner if he felt - and his magic and/or instincts agreed - that the situation called for it.</p><p>…</p><p>Raina Wallis opened her eyes slowly, feeling like she’d just come off a bad full moon - all in pain, beat to hell, exhausted, and sore from head to toe.</p><p>Everything was fine for a moment, then the fogginess lifted and <em> fine </em> disappeared in a wash of rage.</p><p>Stymied rage at that as her vision finally came into focus and she saw the reason what she couldn’t move and behind a portion of the pain - the rest being from having the majority of her pack bonds <em> and </em> her mate bond torn out from her, the sort of horror story that was as a much a threat to gain obedience from a pack as anything else, that was talked about in whispers in dark corners - as she was shackled at wrist and ankle with solid silver cuffs.  Her arms were strung up in a too-tight pull that gave her no leverage and was just short of pulling joints out of socket, while the length on the chains - the sort of solid corded metal alloy (maybe titanium from the scent?) that would give even an alpha problems in her position - allowed her to balance on her toes but nothing else.  Whoever had taken her - and she wasn’t doubting she was taken and gave it fifty-fifty on whether it was Marcus, <em> the disloyal fucker, </em>disobeying his own edict - they knew their craft.</p><p>The silver burned and sapped her strength, but it was nothing she hadn’t dealt with before - for <em> fun </em> even - making the positioning itself the main problem hand in hand with the fact that while she couldn’t see the room behind her, her night vision found double-layered bars made up the cell or cage she was being kept in.  The inside layer was reinforced steel coated with what her nose said was silver nitrate and she’d bet good money that the outer bars <em> were </em> silver.  This was a cage <em> made </em> for a shifter, from the composition of the bars to the fact that they were drilled <em> into </em> both the ceiling and floor, preventing them from being busted loose at their connections and instead requiring anyone trying to break or bend the bars to do it while poisoning themselves on silver and whatever other <em> nasty </em> little surprises her captors had in mind.</p><p>If she was anyone else, she’d even go so far as saying it was overkill, but again: whoever the asshole whose entrails she’d be tearing out soon had prepared well.</p><p>There was <em> no chance </em> they didn’t know she was the strongest alpha female in St. Louis and had prepared accordingly.</p><p>Cocking her head to the side, she scowled when she heard what must be the door to the - well, the dimensions were more <em> cell-like </em> than cage - cell swing open on what to a human would’ve been silent hinges.</p><p>A door that opened <em> without </em> the sound of footsteps or even breathing that would give away someone’s presence if their scent didn’t first - but she <em> couldn’t sense that either. </em></p><p>“You’re <em> good,” </em> she had to admit, even if it was infuriating.  “Whatever that weak cunt Marcus is paying you, I’ll double it.”</p><p>A dark chuckle was her only answer, and then she was cursing the air blue and lunging - as much as she could anyway, more throwing herself less than an inch forward in all - for the arrogant little motherfucker who’d broken her mate bond with Marcus and must’ve given the spineless wonder the grit to cast her out in the first place.</p><p>His mind was too important to her disloyal pussy of a former-mate.</p><p>He <em> never </em> would’ve risked losing it by either having her killed or banishing her with the bond still connecting them.</p><p>“Oh, Marcus isn’t paying me for this bit.”  The little whore of a Brit smirked cockily at her.  As if with one <em> swipe </em> of her claws she couldn’t tear it right off that pretty face the cock-swingers in St. Louis seemed to be losing their <em> goddamn minds </em> over.  “This bit is <em> all </em> for my own satisfaction.”</p><p>Raina opened her mouth to scream at the witchy little faggot only to find that he’d once more - and now she <em> knew </em> it was him rather than the <em> munin </em> rising against her at Marcus’s command - stolen her voice.</p><p>“Ah ah.”  Harry tsked, still smirking.  “None of that now.  You see, I don’t know you Ms. Wallis.  I don’t know hardly a thing about you even, and yet everyone I know here seems to support your being removed - one way or another - from the board.  And since none of <em> them </em> seem to feel like sharing, well,” he shrugged, holding up one hand and letting the light he’d brought with him via a <em> Lumos </em> globe play off the vial of <em> Veritaserum. </em>  “I decided I would go right to the source of the matter.”</p><p>“You’re doing all this for information?”  Raina was incredulous, though relieved that her voice was back at a snap of the witchy faggot’s fingers.</p><p>Harry merely arched a superior brow at her ala Asterion Black.</p><p>“Not merely information, Ms. Wallis.  <em> Knowledge. </em>   By the time I’m done with you, I’ll know everything <em> you </em> know about werewolves, shapeshifters, the supernatural in general, and your crimes that have pissed off and disgusted and/or terrified so many people.  You will find, Ms. Wallis.”  Harry’s tone was dark with warning.  “That there is very little I <em> won’t </em> do when it comes to protecting what’s mine.  And thanks to my bond with Jean-Claude: <em> all of St. Louis is mine </em> to protect.  Now.”  He snapped back to cool and unflinching.  “Let’s get started, shall we?  <em> Mobilicorpus.” </em></p><p>Wand in hand, Harry snapped out the spell that, for lack of a better description, allowed a witch or wizard to both levitate a body safely but also manipulate it.  Mostly used from what he’d been taught by Orion to move either wounded or criminals, it also came in handy when dealing with prisoners.  Or in this case, keeping Raina from trying to take a bite out of him - he didn’t want to <em> test </em> whether lycanthropy can affect him or not on an accident when Rafael had another way to go about it (if anyone was biting him it was his sexy sweetheart of a Rom) - while he opened her mouth to administer the <em> Veritaserum. </em></p><p>Three drops in and a timer set on his wand - it wouldn’t do to use an actual timer spell and clue her in on when/how to start fighting the potion if it works on her - Harry canceled the spells and stepped back as the potion appeared to take effect and her face and body went slack and her eyes glazed over.</p><p>So far, so good if a little more susceptible than expected.</p><p>Which could happen to witches and wizards as well, so he wasn’t ruling it out as being caused by her werewolf status.</p><p>Taking out a muggle tape recorder, he hit record and asked the first test question:</p><p>“What is your name?”</p><p>“Raina Rose Wallis.”</p><p>“What is your date of birth?”</p><p>“March 3rd, 1959.”</p><p>“What positions did you hold within the Thronnos Rokke Pack?”</p><p>“Dominant female, alpha female, Lupa, <em>bolverk,</em> <em>Úthýst.”</em></p><p>“Initial test confirmed: <em> veritaserum </em> appears to be working correctly on an alpha lycanthrope female, forty-one years of age,” Harry rattled off her statistics from the diagnostic spell he cast, including her height and weight before concluding with: “lycanthrope species: werewolf.  Ms. Wallis, your Ulfric condemned you tonight for having, and I quote: <em> innocent blood coating your claws and jaws</em>.  What did he mean by that?”</p><p>Her expression remained vacant and blank, not even a hint of fight showing in her eyes.</p><p>“I have killed outside of my former dominion as Lupa and <em> bolverk </em> of the pack.”</p><p>“Who have you killed outside of your former dominion Ms. Wallis?”</p><p>“I do not know all their names.”  She replied by rote - the horrifying truth as she knew and believed it in all its sickening glory.</p><p>“Elaborate.”</p><p>“Gabriel found some of them.  I found some of them.  We killed them together.  Sometimes we forced the worthless subs to help.  Sometimes our most loyal helped us.  Sometimes we filmed it.  Those films made the most.”</p><p>Harry swallowed down his gorge - and his rage - since he already knew that he needed to pull all of the answers out of her as possible.</p><p>Right before turning in what he could to Storr and start digging into this Gabriel - especially if he was the same Gabriel as the alpha for the Pard.</p><p>“What’s Gabriel’s full name?”</p><p>“Gabriel Derek Montenegro.”</p><p>“How many people have you and Mr. Montenegro killed together, Ms. Wallis?”</p><p>“Thirty-seven females, eleven males.”</p><p>“What are the names you remember?”  He asked, nails digging into the flesh of his forearms as he kept his gaze locked on hers, just <em> waiting </em> for the potion to start to weaken.  If this was just the first of the crimes he dug into, he already knew they were going to be at this for hours.</p><p>She gave him the names she remembered.  As she’d said: it wasn’t all of them.  Not even close.  Only nine of her victims - her “innocent” victims, he corrected himself - had apparently been worth remembering.</p><p>“Who willingly participated in these kills without being forced, tortured, or otherwise coerced by you <em> or </em> Mr. Montenegro?”</p><p>“Alfrid, Elizabeth,” she rattled off half-a-dozen names, thankfully less than the whole group surrounding her at the Lupanar, and after Harry had her clarify just in case there was more than one pack member of a certain name discovered that the Elizabeth in question was one of the wereleopards.</p><p>Raina’s face twitching in an attempt to sneer when they got to the female’s description and any information the alpha wolf had on her was his first sign that the potion was starting to wear off, Harry sneaking a glance at his watch.</p><p>“Ms. Wallis started exhibiting symptoms of the potion weakening after fifty-seven minutes and thirteen seconds.”</p><p>Straightening, Harry flicked his wand down once more from its holster and went through the process of re-dosing her and running through the test questions again before starting back up with the interrogation.</p><p>And he’d been right.</p><p>They <em> were </em> there for hours.</p><p>By the end of it, he didn’t know whether he wanted to take a bath in lava to wash off the taint of the sins he’d been audience to a recounting of, to tear St. Louis apart looking for her accomplices, go on a holy tear against everyone who’d just let her run roughshod over everyone around her, or just tear her head off.</p><p>Finally, after a full vial of <em> veritaserum </em> and feeling weary down to his bones, Jean-Claude sending his concern to him through their bond, he allowed the potion to wear off - and then promptly silenced her once more.</p><p>Harry had learned, alright.</p><p>Raina Wallis was a veritable <em> font </em> of knowledge of all kinds to the point that he’d run through more than one muggle tape recording her testimony.</p><p>But the cost of it, for once, even Harry would admit was quite high as he suspected it would be a long time even with Occlumency before he slept easy with the knowledge of just how much agony and horror a pair of shifter alphas could dish out so long as no one stepped forward to stop them.</p><p>“You know,” Harry sighed, rubbing one hand over his face and feeling as if every day since he’d come to this new home was a decade instead of a day.  “There’s this thing people like to say about good and evil.  That everyone has both in them and the one they choose to act on grows stronger and the one that they ignore grows weaker.”</p><p>Raina lifted her head, humbled and humiliated and terrified for her life in a way she had never been before.  Not <em> ever. </em>   She, who glorified in pain, drew pleasure and ecstasy from causing it and breaking others with it in any and every way she could, finally knew what it was to have her autonomy stripped from her.  To have her mind bent to another’s will as she’d so often bent those weaker than her to her own.  To have her body betray her.  To have her mouth speak words that she didn’t even know she <em> knew </em> until he drew them from her.</p><p>She didn’t know if Jean-Claude’s servant was an angel sent to crush her in divine retribution or a demon who delighted in her torment, but either way it didn’t matter.</p><p>Hari Potter had succeeded where others had always failed: he had made Raina know what it was to <em> fear. </em></p><p>“I don’t think that’s true.”  Harry continued, still staring her down as he’d done the entirety of their time together.  “I think people are far more complex than light and dark or good or evil.  The idea of the seven deadly sins now, the seven devils that creep into hearts at night and in the dark and whisper tantalizing things to tempt them into taking that first step down a path they can never recover from, <em> that </em> I think is a lot closer to the truth of things even if it's still simple in its way.  If so my personal devil is wrath, which given what I did to Zachary and his ghouls should be no surprise.  I know the exact <em> measure </em> down to the last blood cell of how much wrath I contain.  How much selfishness, pride, envy, gluttony and greed.  Still have a way to go I think before I learn the full measure of my capacity for lust, come to find out.  But then I never expected the likes of Rafael and Jean-Claude to saunter on into my life.”  Harry pursed his lips, arching a brow as he scanned her for a long moment.  “You, though… If I had to choose one for you after all I’ve learned, I’d say you’re cozy with Acedia.”</p><p>Raina felt her face twitch in confusion and it was both the best sensation in the world - because <em> she </em> had done that under her own power - and the worst because Potter was making no move to resecure her with his spells or to dump more of that tasteless tonic that worked better than any chemical truth serum the humans had.</p><p>It meant her time was almost up.</p><p>And after all she’d confessed to - and she’d seen his reactions, even reveled in a few of his moments of rage and pain over what she’d done or had done on her order - she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that the same witch who’d burned Nikolaos’s pet necromancer alive, or so the story went, would have any mercy to spare for <em> her. </em></p><p>“Sloth in the modern era,” Harry explained.  “Though that’s an improper representation of the original vice.  Acedia first was <em> to be without care. </em>   Selfishness, in other words.  And <em> you, </em> Ms. Wallis.”  He made a derisive, deeply angry - perchance <em> wrathful </em> - sound deep in his throat.  “You just might be the most selfish creature I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting and I spent a great deal of my formative years and childhood with some <em> truly dismal </em> examples of humanity while also making some <em>spectacularly</em> selfish choices in my own right.”</p><p>“Why do you <em> care?” </em>   Raina rasped out, throat more than a little shredded even with werewolf healing after being interrogated for hours and hours.  A small torture she supposed, denying her water and allowing her vocal cords and throat to tear only to heal because of what she was.  Petty and spiteful.  And disturbingly <em> human </em> for a creature that seemed to have almost inhuman powers and control.  “I did what I wanted, when I wanted, to whom I wanted.  So <em> what? </em>   Are you going to kill me <em> twice </em> for being what I am?”</p><p>Harry wrinkled his nose.  “And dabble in necromancy, hell no, nasty stuff that.  No.”  He smirked.  “But I <em> am </em> going to let you die with this on your mind: I’m going to heal what you broke, fix everything you destroyed.  Even if that means playing babysitter to your mate - who almost <em> jumped </em> to be rid of you, by the way - or eviscerating your lover, <em> I’m going to fix it. </em>   I took everything away from you already.  Now I’m not going to stop until no one in St. Louis <em> ever remembers </em> that Raina Wallis ever existed.  Have fun in hell, bitch, if even Satan will have you.”</p><p>With that, Harry reached up and with brutal efficiency snapped her neck then used his dagger to tear out her heart for good measure.</p><p>By the time he was done breaking her down into her usable parts for potions - he wasn’t sure how werewolf parts from a different kind of werewolf would affect them but like the <em> veritaserum </em> test there was nothing to stop him from trying it out - and burning the rest, all he had left was a hairless skull with glazed eyes and absent teeth staring back at him.</p><p>He gave just burning all of her to ash all due consideration but given all she’d told him didn’t want her victims <em> or anyone else </em> operating under the assumption that she was still out there lurking in the shadows for a chance to attack or some nonsense.</p><p>No, Raina Wallis’s <em> something </em> would have to be found and identified.</p><p>A head at least would make the latter bit easier, and if he tossed it from his broom into the Mississippi River just down from where some fishermen cast their nets for catfish, well, thanks to a few spells no one was any the wiser.</p><p>Heartsick and disgusted with people in general - even if he knew literally everyone <em> but </em> the Pack had had their hands tied when it came to dealing with Raina by Nikolaos’s edict - Harry apparated straight into the shower in the Master Bath below the Circus.  </p><p>Jean-Claude felt their bond grow stronger where he was working in his private office but knew enough of his Harry’s moods by now to realize he needed a bit of time alone, keeping his questions - verbal and mental - for another time.</p><p>After his treasured little monster had time to rest and heal from whatever it was that he’d gone in search of and ended up so wounded by.</p><p>Perhaps his <em> pomme </em> would be willing to assist in that endeavor...well, it was worth a try anyway, both his monster and his <em> pomme </em> having a weakness for what both dubbed <em> cuddling - </em>an interesting modern turn of phrase.</p><p>There were worse ways that Jean-Claude could imagine finishing out such a difficult night than sharing a bed - for embraces but not passion - with two such lovely little delights as his sunny-natured <em> pomme </em> and his treasured little monster.</p><p>…</p><p>Harry had been shuffled off to bed with Jason and Jean-Claude without so much as a token protest, even for the skimpy silk shorts - that were shorter in length than Harry’s boxers, it had to be said - that Jean-Claude and Jason had tag-teamed him into wearing that matched their own, only his were emerald green to Jason’s soft blue and Jean-Claude’s black.</p><p>Still, he wasn’t alarmed to look up in his mindscape and see Jean-Claude standing there in the heart of Grimmauld Place’s vast library, for all that it was the first time Jean had used the bond between them to enter his mind instead of the other way around.</p><p>Originally he’d thought that he would be able to lock Jean-Claude out of himself completely if he wished, and while he still knew it was <em> possible</em>, he believed the act of such a thing would by its very nature harm both their bond <em> and </em> them.</p><p>Keeping to neutral corners when they needed space was fine and perfectly acceptable to their bond.</p><p>Blocking the other completely and locking them out of their minds was <em> not</em>.</p><p>The more he learned about the bond from being part of it, the more he came to understand that no matter how much time he’d had to consider the matter or to research it, he never would’ve really <em> known </em> what he was getting into until the bond was set and evolving and settling between them.</p><p>It wasn’t the sort of thing that one could really <em> learn </em> about, it had to be experienced, and was as individual and unique - or so Jean-Claude had assured him over and over again - as the people involved in it.</p><p>He’d also thought that having an animal to call was the same, but given the ritual he’d seen between Marcus and Jean-Claude, that wasn’t necessarily true despite Jean-Claude telling him that they were similar - including having to take multiple marks on the part of the “animal” which in this case...unless.</p><p>Unless Marcus <em> already </em> held several of Jean-Claude’s marks but had kept them hidden somehow and what everyone had seen at the Lupanar was merely the last mark being set.</p><p>It <em> would </em> explain how Jean-Claude had been so certain that he <em> could </em> take Marcus as his animal to call, but Harry didn’t know if or how it was possible to either delay the markings or spread them out over a significant period of time - because make no mistake, he <em> would </em> have seen a bond between them if it was new.</p><p>Unless the bond wasn’t necessarily <em> with </em> Marcus until the final mark.</p><p>“Is it possible to create a bond to a group, say <em> a Pack, </em> and then add the final mark to a certain member until they die, maybe the bond going dormant or maybe not, until you take a new member?”</p><p>Jean-Claude’s smile was brilliant in the dim light of the mental library, his pleasure and delight in Harry’s question spilling into their own bond like summer sunshine.</p><p>“You are such a delight, <em> mon petit monstre.” </em>   Jean-Claude beamed at him, though he shot a <em> glance </em> at the book that was closed on the table before Harry, the ink-black leather and blood-red binding not exactly <em> cheerful </em> despite him being unaware of what it contained.  Memories, he knew that much of how Harry’s unique mind was structured.  Other than that, he couldn’t say for all that he had ideas.  “No one in a hundred years has made that same connection.  <em> Oui: </em> the Thronnos Rokke Pack itself carries the first three marks of the bond and only by offering my blood to a member do I create the link to a specific member and animal to call.”</p><p>“Bonds and binding are what I do, Jean-Claude.”  Harry reminded him with only a faint hint of a smile crossing his face.  “I may still be learning about the supernatural versions versus the purely magical ones I was taught, but they’re still my foremost area of study.”</p><p>Blood Magic was different, the same with what the wizarding world called Defense.  His innate ability in those areas made them less about <em> study </em> and more practice than anything else.  With bonds and binding and unbinding he imagined that he would never <em> stop </em> learning all the different ways they could form and act and be broken.</p><p>“How did you learn to do that?”  Harry couldn’t help but ask.</p><p>“I learned more than the Council would like to admit when I was <em> gifted </em> to them by my <em> sourdre de sang,</em>” Jean-Claude’s smugness over this was tinged with pain and shame, but soothed by the warm embrace of Harry’s compassion and spirit in their bond.  “Many of my kind are alternately resigned or enraptured with the status quo of our people.  Not everyone, however, is so sanguine. Those few of us who see through the mystique of our kind all usually take great pains to hide any discontent.  To those same <em>few</em>, being sent away from the Council or their <em> courts </em> or their makers is a blessing hidden in a punishment.”</p><p>“But you weren’t sent away.”  Harry felt his eyes grow large with shocked understanding that nearly knocked him out of his seat.  “You <em> escaped.</em>”</p><p>“<em>Oui,” </em> Jean-Claude nodded with a slight smile.  “When I crawled from my self-loathing over the matter that had led to my servitude, I began to make plans.  Then I began making <em> allies </em> out of others like me who hid their discontent in many ways.  Naturally surmounting the power gap between the Council and even a strong and ancient master vampire is almost impossible.”</p><p>“So you went to find some unnatural ways to turn that near-impossibility into probability.”  Harry shook his head in admiration.  Jean-Claude had a level of patience that was astounding.  He’d thought taking four years to train and find Sirius was impressive.  It wasn’t even a patch on four <em> centuries </em> or however long Jean-Claude had waited to gain enough power to break free from the vampiric status quo without <em>actually breaking away from the vampiric status quo.</em>  “Like finding a way to <em> guarantee </em> a strong animal-to-call from one of the strongest packs of werewolves in the world.”</p><p>“Six Ulfrics ago, now, it was.”  Jean-Claude mused, thinking back to that initial agreement and ritual that had bound the pack to Jean-Claude.  “The bond rested dormant all this time while I waited for the right wolf to rise and the right opportunity to take an animal to call where the risk of showing myself more powerful than others believed was worth the power and security gained from the bond.  Marcus was ideal but his mateship to Raina excluded him.  I thought Richard perhaps, but,” he waved an airy hand.  “Plans change.”</p><p>And that right there was one of the reasons Harry didn’t regret taking Jean-Claude’s marks.  As simple as two words: <em> plans change. </em>   After so many people who were stuck in messes of their own making, in an entire <em> society </em> that only existed because their people were utterly complacent and stuck in the status quo between Dumbledore’s politics and the Ministry that backed whatever came out of his mouth at least half the time, there was nothing quite so appealing to Harry as a person in power with the mindset of adaptability.</p><p>Jean-Claude lived in a real world, not in a cloud of idealism or complacency and when events changed, he adapted and survived.</p><p>Being bound to someone who couldn’t or wouldn’t do the same would’ve driven Harry right up the damn wall and into murder at some point after years of dealing with people who stuck their heads in the sand - or right up someone else’s or their own asses - and ignored reality.</p><p>“What is this?”  Jean-Claude broached the subject at last, firmly of the belief that whatever was hidden within the blood-red bindings of the memory tome was the cause of his Harry’s disquiet following his return to the Circus.  There hadn’t been any frustration or other emotions he would pinpoint as signs of Harry being unsuccessful in his hunt.  Leaving him with the assumption that Harry had found his target - only to be wounded and grieving as a result of what he discovered in the process.</p><p>“The memories of my interrogation of Raina Wallis.”  Harry told him with simple, if brutal, honesty.  </p><p>Looking up, Harry met Jean-Claude’s mental representation of himself in their shared mindscape: all black curls and fine features though they had a hunted-gauntness that Jean-Claude didn’t possess in reality, a result of his mental image of himself or his history playing out.  He was still more beautiful than anyone should be and still be real, but in their mental world they often showed things in their representations of their self-image that was hidden in the physical world.  That Harry’s facial scarring changed colors depending on his mood was one such mental “tell.”</p><p>“Tell me that there was nothing anyone but the pack could have done to stop her.”  Harry nearly begged after Jean-Claude’s face went ashen and gained the gauntness Harry noticed first.  “Please, <em> tell me, </em> that you and Rafael and everyone else didn’t just <em> let her </em> rape and torture and murder her way through both her own pack, the Blood Drinker’s pard, and whatever humans or random shifters she could get her claws on.”</p><p>Please tell him he didn’t need to beat the shit out of his own bondmate and potential mate-mate and sever their relationships.</p><p>Please.</p><p>“Under Nikolaos’s rule, there was nothing that could be done.”  Jean-Claude repaid brutal honesty with the same.  “The Master’s laws for their City are absolute, the same with the rules of a leading alpha for pack or pard or rodere, or,” he waved his hand in an “and so on” gesture.  “No one could have anticipated what would come of Elizabeth turning Gabriel, Gabriel taking the pard, or Raina and Gabriel coming together as lovers.  No one, not even me, foresaw what would come.  By the time anyone <em> knew </em> and could have moved against them it was too late: Gabriel was the leader of the Pard and Raina had been the Lupa of the Pack for many years.  Only their own could have stood against them and been spared Nikolaos’s wrath and even that wasn’t a certainty given her mood swings.  The other alphas protected their own, and the wolves started making plans to depose Marcus in order to remove Raina from her position of power.”</p><p>“And the pard?”</p><p>“Gabriel killed all of the dominants during his coup and it was never a large pard to begin with.”  Jean-Claude shook his head. Like all feline-strains of lycanthropy, wereleopards were rare enough that <em>having</em> a pard at all was limited to areas with large shifter populations in the first place.  “All that are left are one deluded submissive who believe him her mate, and a handful of submissives who are willing to do <em> anything </em> they are told if it means avoiding his wrath.  Marcus was everyone’s best hope but Marcus was blind to what she was doing and none dared defy Raina to inform him.  An ugly business anyway one looked at it.  Until you arrived.”</p><p>“Yes, until I arrived.”  Harry sighed, slumping and looking shattered even - or perhaps especially - in this safe place inside of them.  “Did she give orders or was it all fear that kept the pack silent?  That part wasn’t entirely clear.”</p><p>“Both, from what I have found.”  Jean-Claude admitted reluctantly.  “Richard knows, as did the former Second before he was removed.  When exactly Marcus uncovered the truth <em> is </em> a concern but there is no clear answer.  Those who were <em> used </em> by Raina were ordered to silence regarding Marcus at least.”</p><p>“Keep the Pack who knew and did nothing away from me,” Harry’s request had hard edges, making it clear that it was nothing short of a demand.  “Including Marcus.  Until this is all <em> dealt with </em> and my temper cools down, it’s not safe unless you want to scrap them all and start over with a new pack.”</p><p>“It will be as you say.”  Jean-Claude had no problem with his Harry’s demand.  For all his worldliness and his sharp edges and ruthlessness, there was still a good heart hiding inside his fierce wizard.  Discovering such evilness going unchecked by those who <em> could </em> have done something about it without a death-sentence over their heads had wounded it severely.  “And the Pard?  I do not imagine that you will allow Gabriel to continue his depravities unchecked.”</p><p>“I’ll handle it.”  Ah, there was the fire that had been temporarily banked.  “I <em> won’t </em> let Nathaniel and the others suffer under that sadistic asshole any longer.”</p><p>“I have said it once already this evening but it bears repeating.”  Jean-Claude’s smile was more than a little satisfied over Harry’s decision.  The plotting bastard.  “Happy Hunting.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to one of the wonderful readers on Facebook who supplied me with the following links!  Reader is a teacher who lives and works in Minneapolis and shared that due to the property damage and looting, many small businesses are in danger of being permanently closed or put out of business.  If anyone would like to help with impacted communities in MN, here are a couple of ways that Reader and I have curated:</p><p>https://midwayunited.org/?fbclid=IwAR3kZizW1sMEXYoSFqUNcFAmdg5XjZ12E1SJqE8aNyfgWV9a2kZOcie7yjE</p><p>https://www.welovelakestreet.com/?fbclid=IwAR1tbG8bOwzf85rjs7wu03V2zEDDCoAOsQyZClLyIHEJ6I2Ufv1w83EZMtc</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There was supposed to be smut *and* the Rodere BBQ in this chapter, but... *flails incoherently* have some sickeningly sweet fluff and relationship development instead.</p><p>It also needs another proofreading pass, but I'm too tired to get to that tonight and it can wait until morning.  So don't be disturbed if you go back for a re-read and there's been a few slight typos corrected or the like.  (Also, if you spot them feel free to leave a comment and save me some time hunting for them...)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Honor Bound</b> </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Chapter Seven: Labors of Love</b>
</p><p>To Harry’s utter lack of surprise, it seemed Jason was just as playful during sex as he was outside of it.</p><p>That said, he didn’t wake up in bed with Jason and Jean-Claude with the <em> plan </em> of it turning into a spontaneous threesome but when Jason fluttered open his pretty blue eyes and <em> pouted </em> up at Harry for waking him up, he didn’t exactly have any reservations about kissing the expression right off of his smiling lips either.</p><p>Kissing which had turned to petting, and hands exploring, and Jean-Claude deciding to slide into Harry while Harry was still inside of Jason, but there were no complaints to be found for any of them.</p><p>Getting to sleep with either their Master or their Master’s retainers - of whatever kind - was apparently a <em> perk </em> of being a good <em> pomme de sang, </em> and in Jean-Claude’s apparently terribly biased opinion, Jason had always been the best of <em> pommes </em> once he settled down into the role and stopped expecting Jean to be harsh with him over the tiniest infractions.</p><p>Harry could easily see how Jean-Claude could have such a soft-spot for Jason.</p><p>His sunny smiles and easy going personality were a bright spot even after the most tense of evenings managing the St. Louis kiss along with the rest of the supernatural community of the city, and - to be frank - the happy blond was often too cute for his own good.</p><p>It wasn’t naivete, more along the lines of an inherent <em> sweetness </em> that persisted even in the often dark and dangerous supernatural world, and neither Jean-Claude or Harry wanted it tainted if they could help it.</p><p>Speaking of pouting…</p><p>“Let him be, <em> mon pomme.” </em>   Jean-Claude told Jason with far too much amusement when the submissive wolf kept trying to swipe Harry’s clothes and hide them away so he couldn’t leave.  In theory, since the wolf hadn’t twigged to Harry’s ability to come-and-go at will via magic despite preferring his motorcycle most of the time.  Reaching out from where he was still lounging like an indolent great cat in the center of his orgy-and-more sized bed with its black silk sheets, Jean-Claude smacked the mischievous werewolf on the ass in mock-chastisement that merely had the irrepressible blond wiggling his rear in invitation.  “You need to get ready for work, <em> oui? </em>  Let our Harry see to his own matters.”</p><p>“If I don’t go spring Sirius from the monitoring wards I put up.”  Harry said drily, arching his brows as he stared down at the increasingly irritated text messages from his godfather on his blackberry.  “He’s going to try tearing down all my wards before pranking and booby-trapping the crap out of my house.”</p><p>At least the areas he had access to, as there were secrets that Harry kept even from his godfather and staunchest ally.</p><p>“<em>Mon ami, </em>he is ready to return to his own home, correct?”  Jean-Claude asked as he rose in all his naked - and lickable abs and biteable biceps, Harry was distracted for a split-second as he always was with Jean-Claude - glory and manhandled Jason into his own mini-suite with firm hands when the wolf failed to move fast enough on his own, pouting all the way.  “He will be safe?”</p><p>“He’s healed and raring to go.”  Harry sighed, then slid into his normal leather jacket with its protective and temperature control enchantments and folded his robes over his arm to tuck into the saddlebags on his motorcycle, Jean-Claude having done as he’d asked and ridden it back to the Circus the night before.  “Much as I’d love to keep him under my protection, he’s a grown wizard and it has to chafe to have his godson trying to clamor him and wrap him up in cotton.”</p><p>For more than one reason, but that’s Sirius’s past and business to share if he wants, not Harry’s.</p><p>“RPIT will be glad to hear that.”  Jean-Claude mused.  “Among others.  <em> Mon ami </em> has been missed, even if he’s only been absent his normal haunts for two weeks.”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t doubt that.”  Harry’s smirk was all-too-knowing.  “Kinda hard to entertain <em> guests </em> when someone else has to let them into the place you’re staying, or Dr. Lillian might show up at any moment to take his vitals, though if it were anyone <em> else’s </em> home he would’ve given it a good shot anyway.”</p><p>A kiss goodbye - or a dozen - to first Jean-Claude then Jason saw Harry striding from the private suite and up to the parking lot to retrieve his motorcycle and head home, pleasantly sore in some ways and heart sore in others.</p><p>He had a monster to hunt down, he even had a list of places to start looking.</p><p>But first: Sirius, before he blew the place up and Harry didn’t have a home to return to anymore, let alone to open to a handful of his people in potential need depending on just <em> how </em> dependent Gabriel kept the Pard on him.</p><p>Which Raina’s account read as <em> very </em> to <em> utterly. </em></p><p>Harry didn’t know if the wereleopards would need a place to stay or would even be <em> willing </em> to stay with him - which was an important detail that he had to take into account - but whether it was his magic playing up and growing territorial over what was arguably <em> becoming </em> Harry’s territory of St. Louis as the most powerful magic user in the city or a matter of instincts or perhaps even a fraction of Jean-Claude’s own possessiveness over the city and its people coming into play.  It didn’t really matter at the moment.  All he knew was that someone he wouldn’t hesitate to classify as <em> evil </em> in a way that few people truly were had a partner and willing accomplice lurking in the city and the others who <em> could </em> handle Gabriel had already proven they wouldn’t.</p><p>And <em> that </em> nothing about Harry and who he was at heart could allow to stand.</p><p>…</p><p>Pulling into his drive, Harry almost fell off his baby in shock as he rushed to get his feet down and stabilize the motorcycle when he reflexively yanked on the brake.</p><p>
  <em> What the…? </em>
</p><p>Craning a look back over his shoulder in confusion before looking up with his magical sight engaged to stare at the wards, Harry confirmed that this <em> was </em> his home...it just wasn’t the same as he’d left it the night before last when he went to the Circus to take his place supporting Jean-Claude and preparing to handle Raina.</p><p>(Well, at the time it was to prepare to handle Raina’s bond to Marcus and he hadn’t anticipated that she would shift rather <em> starkly </em> from minor inconvenience to major problem, but <em> semantics.) </em></p><p>The gate was still the same, the obsidian wall was still smooth, the drive still paved.</p><p>But the <em> view </em> of the house was drastically different not because of the house itself in the late afternoon light but because of the landscape and garage surrounding it.</p><p>Deeply suspicious that Padfoot’s been up to no good but willing to give him the benefit of the doubt anyway - it wasn’t like this was a <em> bad </em> surprise, on the contrary, everything was lovely and perfect.  He simply wasn’t ruling out it being an illusion or trick.  Especially since while he’d made inroads to getting the wisteria vines under control and weeding out the front flower bed, he hadn’t even <em> looked </em> at the rest of the landscape including the dried out and patchy lawn.</p><p>He certainly hadn’t purchased bright copper planters that were filled with cosmos and other late summer/early fall flowers and resting on each of the porch steps as well as flanking the door, five pairs of them in all not counting the matching ones by the garage bay doors and the small side door.  </p><p>And while he <em> had </em> mentioned to Rafa that he wanted to repaint and add a few touches to the garage to make it blend in better to the house but hadn’t really gotten off the ground with even <em> how </em> he thought that should be done.</p><p>Though clearly as the garage no longer stuck out as a late addition due to the aforementioned paint, a couple of trellises, the copper planters, and the metal work painted white instead of plain steel, <em> someone </em> had had some ideas.</p><p>Parking the motorcycle in its place - and noting that someone had gone to Dave’s where Sirius had a loft above the bar and grill and retrieved Padfoot’s Aston Martin - Harry also saw fresh plantings of bushes he’d bet were roses and peonies by the foliage, and entire beds that had been cleared, groomed, and covered over in mulch that he’d been planning to use for bulbs later in the planting season for spring and summer showings, as well as what he thought was a small trench being dug out for a brick or rock or stone path leading to the backyard from the porch.</p><p>Rafael’s truck was also parked in front of the house, giving him an idea of what must've happened if it <em> wasn’t </em> a prank via Sirius.</p><p>And promptly felt himself <em> melt </em> as Rafael himself rounded the side of the house as Harry swung off the bike’s saddle with broken-in work gloves on his hands still flecked with mulch and soil, a sweat-slicked bare chest with more dirty patches on his chest and arms, and a bashful little smile on his face.</p><p>“You’re early.”  Rafael shifted a bit on his feet as Harry stared at him in awe.  “Ah, I your text said- I wasn’t- um…”</p><p>Harry chuckled softly, shaking his head.  <em> How </em> Rafa could be the big tough alpha wererat Rom to his people, ruthless when needed and always standing strong, but randomly turn into a marshmallow around him he <em> still </em> didn’t entirely understand.  But it was adorable the first time it happened and he doubted it ever wouldn’t be.</p><p>Reaching his beautiful - fabulous pushover - boyfriend, Harry leaned up on tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to those well-sculpted lips.</p><p>“I love it.”  He told him honestly.  “Thank you so much for taking care of it.”</p><p>“Well,” Rafael jerked a shoulder, stripping off his gloves and tucking them in his back pocket before wrapping his hands gently on Harry’s lean hips as his smaller future-mate wrapped his arms behind his neck.  “You’ve been busy.  Between Sirius’s recovery and me and Jean-Claude, and I heard what you did for Marcus so preparing for <em> that </em> must’ve been a time-suck, some of your settling in checklist kept getting pushed back.  And now that the wicked bitch of St. Louis has had her claws pulled, I have some time I can devote to helping out my sweetheart instead of riding herd on the Rodere to make sure they stay away from her.”</p><p>Due to Gabriel’s <em> extremes </em> and inability to hide them the way Raina could, he didn’t have to worry <em> nearly </em> so much about the alpha leopard seducing one of his people into a mess.</p><p>Thank every deity <em> ever, </em>even if the fact that Raina was missing had already made the rounds and was sure to be a different sort of trouble altogether.</p><p>Without the pack protecting her, Raina Wallis was <em> significantly </em> less of a problem and there was nothing to stop Rafael from tearing her unbearably smug and cocky head <em> right off </em> her manipulative, vindictive, sadistic shoulders.</p><p>“Best boyfriend <em> ever.” </em>  Harry breathed out, eyes shining as he stretched back up and scattered thankful kisses all over that handsome-and-he-knew-it face.</p><p>At least until Rafael chuckled low in his throat, and lifted Harry right off his feet into a deep, tongue twining kiss that left Harry panting a bit and clinging like a spider monkey onto his boyfriend with his legs wrapped around Rafael’s trim waist.</p><p>“Hmm.”  Rafael licked his lips thoughtfully, eyeing his lover with consideration as he leaned down and sniffed at his neck, nosing under the collar of Harry’s jacket, then licked one strong tendon despite Harry’s protesting laughs and jerk of his shoulder to make him stop.  “You had quite the fun morning, didn’t you?”</p><p>Harry blushed a little under his sun-dark skin.  Right.  Wererat.  Rafael could smell what he’d been up to despite the shower.  Though with Jason’s grabby hands and Jean-Claude’s <em> everything</em>, he probably still carried quite a bit of their scents anyway.</p><p>“Mayybbbe.”  Harry drawled, nibbling at his lower lip and peeking up at Rafael from under his thick lashes.  “Jason’s incorrigible and when it comes to some things Jean-Claude is <em> no </em>help at all for keeping him in line.”</p><p>Rafael laughed boisterously at that not-quite-a-complaint from his lover.</p><p>“Truer words have never been spoken, sweetheart.”  Rafael tapped him lightly - not a spank but almost - on his ass in signal then lifted Harry down as soon as his favorite spider monkey detached himself.  “Which gives me hope that one day <em> I’ll </em> get to see that in action and not Jean-Claude.”</p><p>Harry felt his libido perk up and almost <em> purr </em> at the dark promise in Rafael’s response to finding out that his lover had spent the morning being debauched by/with a werewolf and a master vampire.</p><p>Huh.</p><p>There wasn’t a trace of jealousy or envy to be found in Rafael’s, well, <em> anything </em> that Harry could detect.  He really meant it.  Which given some of the things Jean-Claude has suggested as well...wowza.  For the good of his ability to function, he probably should keep them away from each other for a while unless he wanted to be put through his paces by Rafael and Jean-Claude <em> at the same time</em>.</p><p>To be frank: Harry wasn’t sure that even with his new-and-improved stamina he would be able to keep up in that scenario if what they’re like <em> separately </em> was any sign.</p><p>What a way to <em> go </em> though…</p><p>“Ugh, no more of <em> that </em> before you scar your loving godfather for life!”  Sirius shouted from the foyer where he’d opened the door and been waiting on Harry to finish gushing over his present from Rafael.  Though he had to give the Rom props: he might not be able to compete with Jean-Claude’s resources but he sure as shit had a damn good idea of the sort of romantic gestures that would have Harry turning into a pile of goo instead of merely being appreciated <em> as </em> a romantic gesture and sign of caring.  “I want to see my loft again sometime this century, pup!”</p><p>Harry and Rafael shared a soft laugh and another kiss before they went their own ways: Harry to deal with his godfather and Rafael to return to the backyard where he’d been working on tearing up sod for Harry’s greenhouses that - at some point when Jean-Claude was done monopolizing all his crews - were going to go up behind the house.</p><p>Jimmy and Doug would be by soon enough with the pallets of stone pavers, dropping it off and leaving him to it since this was still an <em> off the books </em> project for his boyfriend not a Rodere project or one for his company.  Some of them had helped out yesterday anyway, but with the big Labor Day barbeque coming up there was plenty of work to do at the Rodere grounds.  Thankfully he had enough <em> good </em> lieutenants to keep things in line there so he didn’t have to blow part of his rare three-day weekend keeping the Rodere under control when that would be <em> all </em> he was doing on the actual day-of festivities.</p><p>“You picked a good one with him, pup.”  Sirius murmured, gaining a bright-eyed smile from his godson at his tacit approval.  “You still sure you’re ready to do the world’s worst version of Meet the Family?”  He asked, referencing the upcoming Labor Day holiday on Monday and Harry’s agreement to attend the Rodere’s celebration as the Rom’s date.</p><p>Harry’s smile was brilliant, no trace of the lingering issue of Raina’s confession - and all it entailed - allowed to dim it in that moment.  “Now more than ever.”</p><p>…</p><p><em> “Another redhead, Harry??!  Merlin, you’re </em> so <em> like your father sometimes…” </em></p><p>
  <em> “Sirius!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What??  Just callin’ it like I see it.” </em>
</p><p><em> “Well </em> don’t <em> especially since Rafael can probably </em>hear you!”</p><p>
  <em> “Pfft.  Like your Rom is going to do anything but ask to watch or join in.  Congratulations Harry: you landed in a society just as kinky as you are.” </em>
</p><p><em>“Ewww ew ew.  Please never say the word </em>kinky ever again.”</p><p>
  <em> “Hah.  I hit puberty in the seventies.  I know more about kink and free love than…” </em>
</p><p><em> “Sirius.  Please.  I’ll lift the wards and never keep you longer than Dr. Lillian deems absolutely necessary ever again if you stop trying to scar me for life with your </em> when I was your age <em> stories about London in the seventies.” </em></p><p>
  <em> “Deal.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Asshole.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Aww, pup, don’t be like that…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Too late, I’m mad at you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Harry...pup...beloved godson.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Nope.  Not working.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Are you sure?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “...fucking puppy dog eyes.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Ha!  Yes!” </em>
</p><p>…</p><p>Much to Harry’s frustration, Gabriel had apparently taken Raina’s missing person status - apparently the head hadn’t been found yet, which, <em> three day weekend</em>, he probably should’ve expected - as a sign to vanish.</p><p>No matter where Harry searched of all the little bolt holes Raina knew about - and after completely demolishing the barn house they’d used as offices and studios for their little <em> enterprise </em> of blood, sex, rape, terror, and murder - he <em> could not </em> find Gabriel.</p><p>A frustration compounded by the fact that since he’d also never <em> met the motherfucker </em> he couldn’t track him that way and <em> Point-Me </em>spells worked only part of the time when it came to his new home and apparently not at all on wereleopards.</p><p>
  <em> Son of a bitch. </em>
</p><p>Nathaniel also didn’t work at <em> Guilty Pleasures </em> on Saturday and Sunday nights, so Harry spent the weekend - when he wasn’t working with Rafael on his home, getting teased by Sirius at Dead Dave’s, or playing <em> proper partner </em> at the Circus - two inches from losing his temper with his three lovers doing their best to give him a far more <em> pleasurable </em> outlet than what he’d otherwise fall into.</p><p>Like beating the shit out of every dominant wolf that had looked the other way in the Pack, starting with Marcus and working his way down after he’d had to listen to the tapes of Raina’s interrogation twice more in order to cut edits for the police and then again for the pack that wouldn’t have anything incriminating on them to use against Harry.  A spell took care of hiding his voice.  But even so, there was information that he didn’t want <em> anyone else </em> to have, as the living victims didn’t deserve to be forced into reliving their trauma over and over again to satisfy the whims of a justice system that often cared more about evening scores than it did caring for the wounded.</p><p>He handed the tape for the pack over to Ms. Estelle, since she was one of the few he thought would handle the information it contained without overreacting or making things <em> worse </em> for the living victims inside the pack while still <em> handling </em> the guilty parties.</p><p>Gabriel on the other hand was <em> his. </em></p><p>Then Monday came and with it a distraction so all-encompassing that Harry simply didn’t have either the time or energy to burn on being pissed off that his prey was in the wind.</p><p>…</p><p>“<em>Mon tresor,” </em> Jean-Claude closed the door behind him carefully as he saw who awaited him in his bedroom.</p><p>He’d thought that his Harry had already left, as he had obligations to his Rom the next day and would need to be well-rested.</p><p>And not one given to false modesty, whenever Harry stayed over at the Circus since, ah, the <em> consummation </em> of their relationship as more than mere platonic partners, Jean-Claude knew well that Harry was anything but <em> rested </em> once Jean-Claude allowed him to sleep.</p><p>Now here he was, waiting in the soft glow of candlelight - one of literal <em> dozens </em> of spells that between them Harry and Sirius had layered over the caverns for the enjoyment or protection of the kiss and their shifter employees - wearing an outfit that Jean-Claude had never seen before and certainly hadn’t chosen for him and slipped into his wardrobe.  Harry’s curls were soft, none of the controlling styling creams keeping them in place, allowing them to fall forward or flop to the side.  It struck Jean-Claude in moments like this where there was no audience and no expectations just how <em> young </em> Harry truly was.  His masks and shields were impressive, even his mental self-image was often stoic while his courtly facade was genial instead of merely <em> at rest. </em></p><p>Jean-Claude had known before Cynbel ever told him of what his powers found - or didn’t as the case was - that Harry was <em> distinct </em> and singular in a way that was rarer than humans ever liked to believe.  He had met <em> masses </em> and millions of people and monsters of all sorts in over six hundred years of life.  Most of them blended together and the ones that <em> didn’t </em> stood out far more often for a similar - if vicious - cruelty and sadism than for the sweetness of their smiles or the goodness of their hearts.</p><p>Oh, he had known <em> good </em> men and women in his time.  They weren’t quite as rare as some liked to make out.  He’d met them of all kinds: merciful, benevolent, kind, just, sweet, simple, compassionate.</p><p>Harry was still different than them, as his mercy was without vanity though often cloaked in artifice.  More, he wasn’t strictly <em> good </em> in the simple black/white morals that was most often accompanied by the moniker.  He wasn’t overflowing with the milk of human kindness, on the contrary, Jean-Claude had found him more often starkly critical of fools and foibles than accommodating of them.  He was fierce, and unrelenting, and as his godfather had warned shockingly unforgiving when it came to trespasses against those he’d adjudged worthy of his protection.</p><p>Mercy.</p><p>A simple word for a not-so-simple concept.</p><p>As, though many so often forget, <em> to have mercy </em> is to be a victor, to have the power of life and death in some form over another.</p><p>In order to have mercy, one first has to have <em> power, </em> it is the kindness of conquerors, a virtue of strength not of weakness.</p><p>When it came to his monstrous little sorcerer, <em> every </em> act of compassion or kindness dispensed was mercy, because with only a few exceptions Jean-Claude truly believed the more he tasted and learned of Harry’s power, the lower his mental accounting of those who might stand against him and <em> survive </em> let alone hand him a defeat lowers another degree.</p><p>It was the flip side of mercy that made Harry so interesting, much as his protectiveness levened his temper.  Mericful creatures had to have an innate <em> arrogance, </em> knowingly or otherwise, and an inherent, bone-deep confidence in their own power.  After all, showing another mercy when one <em> doesn’t </em> have the power to back it up was merely asking for one’s charity to be abused.</p><p>On this dawning with Harry’s masks down, Jean-Claude thought he saw a shadow of the internal war that ever-raged in his monster darkening Harry’s tired eyes: mercy warring with rage, arrogance battling against his self-image, protectiveness shielding it all.</p><p>And he felt a zest of elation.</p><p>Tired, weary from trying to track his latest prey, with what would likely be a gauntlet of introductions and judgements and first-impressions to run the next day, Harry had come to <em> him </em> rather than seek succor in the arms of his Rom or seek to distract himself in some other manner.</p><p>(Though Jean-Claude had to admit he was surprised at Harry’s reticence regarding Damian, with how taken with the Viking’s looks he’d been and Harry’s bold nature, he’d expected to be both entertained and vexed by his little monster’s pursuit - whether Damian decided to play along or reject him, even if Jean-Claude himself wasn’t certain which of his reactions would accompany which decision by his underling - by now.)</p><p>Rafael may have the majority of Harry’s days, but Jean-Claude often had these quiet moments in the dawning hours as well as his nights.  If Rafael was respite and joy, Jean-Claude was becoming strength and solace.  He thought it rather fitting.  Harry was a complex creature with complex needs and while Jean-Claude’s vanity might insist that he could sate them all, his wisdom vehemently disagreed.</p><p>It was neither safe nor fair to make such a demand when Jean-Claude would be unable to comply in turn, and while there were still piece of their relationship that would need polishing and work and time, he found himself far more satisfied than he thought he would be at the thought of a true partner to walk beside him through the ages rather than a tool to assist him in the day and an amplifier to his power.</p><p>As Harry moved from the shadows, Jean-Claude arched a brow at the way the woven silk cloth - he could spot the material from across the room with ease - moved like liquid smoke around his form.  It was an old-fashioned tunic, the sort of attire that had out of fashion before Jean-Claude was born a human, but rich in material and precise in tailoring.  Given his suspicions about Harry’s heritage, he wasn’t as confused by the attire as he probably should be.</p><p>Under the tunic Harry was wearing buttery soft natural deerhide, and in his hand was a fluffy, frilled flower that had a froth of petals that looked like a rose fashioned of silk but was natural in its vivid red coloring as Harry’s lips after he’d been biting them.</p><p>A peony, he thought, though it took him some time to recall the symbolism.</p><p>A happy life and a happy marriage, if he wasn’t mistaken.</p><p>Harry took a deep breath then offered Jean-Claude the single stem, explaining as his vampire stalked forward after a long moment of doing that statue-stillness they all fell into when they were surprised or thinking deeply or in some cases simply forgot to move.</p><p>“I don’t know anything about love or relationships.”  Harry told him with blunt honesty and barreled on when Jean-Claude arched a brow and prepared to protest it.  “I don’t.  Sex: yes, of course.  I’m not saying I’m - or I was - a virgin.  I’m saying that I never had the <em> time </em> to care about falling in love or forming a romantic relationship.  Even my friendships I mostly just fell into and kept going once they’d attached themselves to me.  I wasn’t allowed friends growing up.  Had no examples of healthy relationships and all I knew of <em> love </em> was a sickly, smothering sort that I wanted no part of once I was old enough to decide things for myself.  When I turned eleven it became parents who died when I was a toddler so I could live.  Then later it was a godfather willing to live in a <em> cave </em> just so he could be near me when I was in danger.  I’ve been taking my cues from you and Rafael and Jason when he made it clear that he wanted me.  Following others’ leads, which,” he smiled sheepishly as Jean-Claude simply watched him with dark eyes, allowing him to ramble on and on as he played the petals of the peony over his plush lips.  “Isn’t fair to any of you, but to <em> you,” </em> Harry bit his lip nervously.  “In particular.  Taking control of a city isn’t easy, and I appreciate that you’ve been letting me take the lead and set the pace, but <em> Jean,” </em> he sighed, hands flapping a bit in exasperation.  “I have <em> no fucking clue </em> what I’m doing as your lover.  Consort, sure.  I was trained for that sort of thing.  But no one ever saw the need to sit me down for Love and Romance 101, let alone the advanced courses no doubt involved in things like polyamory.  I’m lost, Jean-Claude.  And I need your help to find my way when I don’t have the slightest clue about what I’m doing or if what I feel is real or if it’s some consequence of our bond or on the flip side if it’s some biochemical pull to Rafael or if I <em> really </em> want to get involved with someone or maybe just want to fuck them, I just…”</p><p>“You’re young.”  Jean-Claude finally stepped in when it seemed like Harry had slipped from trying to explain his confusion - and it highlighted a few concerns Jean-Claude already had from what he’d felt through the bond - into aggravated frustration.  “Young enough that if the situation weren’t so emergent, I would have taken the time to properly woo you, become your friend before trying to advance.  Unfortunately, Lady Fortune rarely smiles kindly on me.”  Jean-Claude reached out and gently cupped one of Harry’s cheeks in his hand, thumb brushing delicately over the blush that tried to hide under his bronzed skin.  “Though I have come to think that I would weather it all again if it meant that you were waiting for me in the end.”</p><p>“<em> Jean,” </em> Harry gasped weakly, shaken by the declaration.  He didn’t know the full story of Jean-Claude’s past, most days he felt like he’d barely read a back-cover summary of it, but he knew more than enough to realize that that was one <em> hell </em> of a statement coming from his vampire.  “I-,”</p><p>“You’re young, with a brave heart that loves fiercely and if I’m not mistaken regarding <em> mon ami’s </em> stories, swiftly once you’re decided on a course.  Emotions, love, romance, they’re never black and white.  Nothing so simple as <em> I do</em>, and nothing so helpless as <em> falling</em>.  Love is a choice.  You choose everyday that a person is loved by you, you choose to give them access into your heart but you never really give it <em> away. </em>   People don’t just <em> stop </em> being able to love because they’ve loved once.  Or at least most do not.  A father doesn’t decide to stop loving his children because their wife and mother is gone.  You don’t love your parent’s memory - or perhaps the idea of them - any less because you have Sirius, you simply love them differently.  Romantic love is the same.  You will never love me exactly the same as you love your Rom, if you decide to love either of us at all.”  Jean-Claude waved the hand still clutching the peony in the air, then tucked it behind Harry’s ear.  “So long as you never forget to tell us or show us in whatever way is meaningful, our love will not ever be neglected or forsaken.  The same goes for <em> mon pomme </em> or the Viking or <em> mon minet </em> if you decide to add one or all of them to your collection of lovely men, <em> oui?  </em> You care and you worry about these things when many others would take them for granted.  That alone already says to me that you know more than you think about <em> les choses du cœur.” </em></p><p>“But how will I <em> know</em>?”  Harry asked anxiously.  “What if I’m wrong and someone gets hurt?”</p><p>Jean-Claude guided his young lover to the bed and sat with him on the edge, angling them so that their torsos were turned and their hands were linked together, the petals of the peony drawing attention to the heat of Harry’s blush and the red of his lips.</p><p>“You have to take the risk to find out, that’s the ultimate <em> catch </em> of affairs of the heart.  Minds are easy to change and sway, hearts once decided are far more constant.  Emotions are not black and white, <em> he is good and so I love him, he is bad and so I disdain him. </em>   They’re more like,” Jean-Claude considered the matter a moment, thinking back to when he first felt <em> love </em>as a human and not affection or lust or duty alone.  “Symptoms.”  </p><p>Jean-Claude pressed his fore and middle fingers lightly to the bow of Harry’s lips: “You lose your breath every time they enter a room.”  Harry gasped a little at the cool, featherlight touch.</p><p>His fingers trailed down, brushing softly and then pausing on his thudding pulse.</p><p>“Your heart beats faster when they walk by.”  Jean-Claude’s touch continued down the raw silk of Harry’s tunic, playing lightly over the barely-there down of his arm hair that lifted and prickled at his caress.  “Your skin tingles when they stand close enough to feel their breath or the heat of their skin.  Confusion is part of it, especially at the start, when you’re trying to discover if something beyond base desire is there.”</p><p>A soft smile played over Jean-Claude lush mouth and his lashes fluttered a bit.</p><p>“That you are so confused by <em> me</em>, I have found both delightful and a promising sign that one day, you <em> will </em> come to love me, will make that decision that I belong in your heart.  Just as I could so easily come to love you.”</p><p>Harry reached up and tucked one of Jean-Claude’s curls behind an ivory ear, lifting up and pressing a kiss that was as much promise as it was caress to the corner of his eye, and then his cheekbone, and then his mouth.</p><p>And then Jean-Claude turned his head at the last second and the kiss meant to balance his caresses on the opposite side of Jean-Claude’s mouth was instead stealing all of Harry’s breath as Jean-Claude took command of it - and of Harry - as he bore him back onto the silk sheets of his bed.</p><p>No more words about love or emotions or romance or relationships were spoken that night.</p><p>But they stayed in Harry’s mind for days and weeks and even years to come, nonetheless.</p><p>…</p><p>Harry was glad that Nikolaos had blown the idea of hiding Harry as Sirius’s apprentice into a million fragments because he had enough on his hands at the moment with trying to balance Jean-Claude’s takeover of St. Louis with having an actual life.</p><p>He knew everything would calm down soon enough - Jean-Claude had reassured him on that point more than once - but in the meantime Harry was ecstatic that he didn’t have to try and fit in updating ward schemes or Sirius’s meetings with the various players in St. Louis rich enough to afford his godfather’s services around everything else making demands on his time.</p><p>That wasn’t to say that he wasn’t <em> also </em> part of the reason why Sirius was slammed with business as soon as he was finished healing since he wasn’t about to let anyone <em> else </em> fiddle with the wards on the Circus, let alone add twists to Harry’s existing wards, but he was still happy he didn’t have to try and pry-bar in playing apprentice.</p><p>They still would meet up whenever they could - and absolutely nothing could keep Sirius from the nightly entertainment that was watching Harry play pureblood to an audience of unknowing vampires and shifters which was <em> fucking hilarious</em>.</p><p>Case in point: Sirius picking up Harry from the Circus at noon on Labor Day - which was the equivalent of a bank holiday from what he could tell - to take him and play wingman, so to speak, at the Rodere’s celebration.</p><p>“You ready for this, pup?”  Sirius asked, supportively.  With the headspace the kid had been in lately, no one would blame him for saying no.  Between vampire court bullshit - though he had to admit, that redhead Harry was eyeing <em> was </em> gorgeous and deadly which seemed to be his type since even Nathaniel and Jason who normally would register as about as dangerous as a puffskein were more than capable of fucking someone up as shifters if pushed far enough - and all the stomach-churning details that he’d shared about what Raina had <em> actually </em> been doing to both Pack and Pard, Sirius wasn’t sure if he’d be able to maintain normality the way Harry was managing.</p><p>The terrifying part to Sirius as his godfather and only family Harry had left was that it wasn’t an <em> act. </em></p><p>Harry really <em> was </em> so used to having bullshit on top of heartache on top of grief on top of danger on top of manipulations on top of sheer abuse and neglect piled onto him that he could just go on living his life no matter what life decided to throw at him.</p><p>Some would think that was a good thing.</p><p>Sirius wasn’t <em> some, </em> and knew all too well the price that Harry had paid over and over again to gain that level of coping skill and adaptability and sheer bloody-minded stubbornness and that he wasn’t <em> there </em> to support him for most of it would never be okay by any measure Sirius could put it to.</p><p>But it was, it had happened, and all Sirius could do was swear to do <em> better. </em></p><p>Even if it meant biting his tongue and watching as his <em> pup</em>, the closest thing he would ever have to a <em> son</em>, took turns at being a vampire’s consort by night and a magical lord in all but name by day with cramming in boyfriend and friend and lover in the scant spaces in between.</p><p>Sirius didn’t think even Harry realized what he was doing, how he was acting, given that modern wizarding culture in their old world didn’t really have a reference point for it.</p><p>He also one hundred percent believed that the Black Portraits had <em> absolutely </em> pumped and primped and polished and primed Harry to be a magical lord to the point that it had become an innate and natural response for Harry as soon as he’d registered - however unconsciously - that St. Louis was in <em> need </em> of one to keep the supernatural from preying on each other, no matter how instinctual and accepted it might be.</p><p>Since almost from day one Harry had zeroed in on potential partners who would help him while he was about it in the likes of Jean-Claude and Rafael, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that his pup had been thoroughly indoctrinated in the whys and ways of rulership.</p><p>It was only that Harry wasn’t inclined towards <em> actively </em> ruling so much as a chicken coop that kept Sirius from losing his ever loving <em> mind </em> and trying to curse a bunch of dusty old assholes back at Grimmauld Place an entire world (and maybe then-some) away.</p><p>Harry took a deep breath, only fidgeting a <em> bit </em> with his soft white-worn vintage jeans - that had just <em> appeared </em> along with a wardrobe chest in Jean-Claude’s suite that seemed to gain more contents every time Harry went looking for something to wear for one reason or another - and emerald cotton button down that he’d picked out as not too fancy but not looking like he’d just thrown on whatever either.</p><p>“As I’ll ever be, Padfoot.”</p><p>“Alright then, one Rodere to meet.”  Sirius nodded crisply and easily navigated the Aston Martin out of the Circus’s parking lot and back into traffic.  “Don’t worry, pup.”  Sirius attempted to reassure him.  “The Rodere like any other shifter group takes their cue from the Rom.  They’re mostly a laid-back bunch who’re happy Nikolaos is gone and will respect you for helping facilitate that alone, leaving out that their Rom is arse over tits for you.”</p><p>“Sirius.”  Harry breathed out, almost scolding.  “Can we...<em> not </em> get into how deep and fast things have gotten with Rafael?  Please?”</p><p>Sirius shrugged but conceded - though not without a parting piece of advice he’d been sitting on and debating over before his pup’s worry and nervousness on the matter decided him.</p><p>“Our kind fall fast when we let ourselves.”  He shared.  “Magic is encompassing and knowing in a way that goes beyond instinct and emotion and it isn’t shy about pushing.  Your dad wasn’t the first one to take a look at someone and fall in an instant.  He wasn’t the last either.  Your magic <em> knows </em> what’s good for you and what isn’t - maybe especially yours because of all you’ve gone through to learn it and free it and know it.  If you listen to it and trust it, it’ll never lead you <em> truly </em> astray so long as it remains itself and uncorrupted.”</p><p>“Even if it says to tear someone to shreds or to take a dozen lovers?”</p><p>“Even then, so long as it’s your magic you’re listening to and not your own mind mistaking your own urges for your magic’s guidance.”  Sirius’s smile was sardonic, finding this last bit bitterly ironic and sour on his tongue.  “Rubbish as the way it’s taught now, that’s why there’s so many forms of Divination.  To help us sort out what our magic is trying to tell us from our own selfish desires.”</p><p>Harry’s grimace said that he wasn’t about to be doing any crystal gazing anywhen soon, but he’d listened so Sirius had done his due diligence as his godfather, so that was something at least.</p><p>…</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>New French for this chapter:</p><p>les choses du cœur - matters of the heart<br/>mon minet - my kitten (specifically, Jean-Claude's nickname for Nathaniel like mon pomme is for Jason, etc.)</p><p>(And yes: some of you might recognize some dialogue that belongs to Magnus Bane in the Shadowhunters ‘verse, but I think it’s one of the better monologues from an experienced or jaded person to a younger one about love and emotions.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Honor Bound</b> </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Chapter Eight: Ding Dong the Bitches are Dead</b>
</p><p>Labor Day barbeques in the States were apparently a <em> big deal </em> even when they weren’t masquerading as a party celebrating the demise of a much hated dictator - or two, even if Raina’s demise was still more metaphorical than actual to everyone but Harry and Jean-Claude.</p><p>Add in five hundred - give or take - wererats spread throughout the St. Louis Metropolitan area and it became <em> An Event </em> that would make Ilythia Black take notice albeit was quite lower brow than any of the “crushes” she spoke of from her time as the most sought after <em> belle </em> of the Black family of her time whose beauty was second only to her power.</p><p>Rafael had given him an overview of what the preparations had entailed, including everything from an entire truck’s worth of fizzy drinks to sides of beef and entire hogs being roasted on spits over coals.  It was all very <em> comfortable </em> from the bales of hay that were serving as outdoor seating areas to the tiki torches keeping away mosquitoes.  All told, the Rodere and any guests like Harry and Sirius spread out over twenty acres - give or take - of the Rodere grounds.</p><p>Everywhere, that was, except for the actual Rom’s residence that was tucked away down the long lane of the grounds at the very back of the property and abutting a hill that from what Harry had managed to figure out about the caverns beneath the city actually connected to the Circus and many other places via tunnels.</p><p>No one could say the Rodere lacked <em> industry </em> as those tunnels and excavated caverns were the work of generation after generation of shifters if begun originally at the behest of Nikolaos.</p><p>Harry rather doubted that the little brat of a master vampire would’ve encouraged the Rodere to grow and expand and take charge of the tunnels if she had <em> any </em> inkling that it would lead to her eventual demise, much like inviting Jean-Claude into her court, but from what Harry had been able to tell foresight wasn’t one of the brat’s skills and everyone was all the better for that lack leading to her death.</p><p>Sirius had parked in a guest spot left for them in the large underground parking structure that from what Harry could tell was several levels, which Harry was thankful for.</p><p>It gave him a couple minutes to recalibrate his expectations of the Rodere after seeing the actual grounds and Rom residence.</p><p>Rafael was one <em> hell </em> of a deceptive asshole, and Harry found it entirely too sexy for his own good and that was likely a sign that he was in over his head with his Rom boyfriend.</p><p>He’d never really <em> gotten </em> it.  Even though he’d seen for himself the way others “in the know” treated Rafael.  Even though he’d seen how his Rodere treated him.  Even though he’d seen how wary Sirius was, it hadn't really <em> struck </em> him that his affectionate, laid back boyfriend was in many ways an <em> entirely </em> different animal than the Rom of the Rodere.</p><p>The sight of the massive Rom residence: a neo-classical <em> monstrosity </em> of a house in a U-shape that backed against a hill and contained a self-contained courtyard in the open center of the house, certainly helped put that large and alive in the front of his mind.  Rafael didn’t live in one of the cabins or houses scattered across the Rodere grounds: he lived <em> there</em>, in that mansion-fortress and commanded a damn attack force bigger than the rest of the shifters in St. Louis <em> combined. </em>  Though that latter might change now that the Master of the City had wolves to call and not rats.</p><p>Just like Jean-Claude’s seductive businessman persona was only one facet, Harry’s lovely marshmallow of a boyfriend was only one aspect of Rafael - and now that he’d seen the proof of that for himself he doubted he’d be able to forget it ever again.</p><p>And if the anxiety hiding in Rafael’s dark eyes was any sign, it <em> had </em> clearly occurred to the Rom that this would be the first <em> real </em> time Harry ran face-first into the fact that he wasn’t just dating a wererat or an alpha, but a <em> Rom </em>and all the strings and attachments that came with it.</p><p>Harry ignored the lieutenants standing on Rafael’s right and left for a moment, having met them before, and reached up and pressed a soft kiss onto Rafael’s tensed mouth, trying to make his point without actually having to <em> say it </em> where his Rodere could hear it.</p><p>
  <em> It’s okay.  I can handle it.  We’re good. </em>
</p><p>If the sparkle that lit back up in Rafael’s eyes was any sign, the message was received as he slipped his hand around to rest on Harry’s lower back as Sirius rounded the car and came to stand a couple paces behind his godson.</p><p>“You’re already met my main bodyguard, Fredo,” a dark-featured and handsome alpha nodded at the pair of wizards, the bodyguard having taken turns guarding Sirius along with the rest of the trained guards in the Rodere.  “Harry, I’d like you to meet my Second, Dr. Louis Fane.  He’s the one we spoke about.”</p><p>Dr. Fane was an averagely-handsome - and Harry couldn’t <em> believe </em> that that was a scale he had use for now, after being faced with good-looking people from mildly attractive but nothing special like Jean-Claude’s pet assassin down to <em> ridiculously </em> beautiful like Rafael, Jean-Claude, and several others - alpha wererat who was just a few inches taller than Harry.  He had a similar build to Sirius, strong and lean without Harry’s deceptive litheness, and messy curly black hair that Harry was all too familiar with from his own hair-taming woes.  His affable smile was one of his most memorable features, along with the feeling that Harry got off of him that this is a person who was genuinely <em> good </em> and tried to do good and help people but without it being self-righteous or <em> holier than thou </em> in anyway.</p><p>Harry instantly started plotting his chances of hooking up Dr. Fane with Sirius, since if there was anyone who could use some <em> good </em> in their lives it was his godfather, and from what Harry could see Sirius hadn’t made anything more than casual romantic attachments to anyone since landing in their new home years ago.</p><p>“Louie, this is Hari Potter, the human servant of the Master of the City and my boyfriend.”</p><p>Harry smiled which was reflexively echoed on the other man’s face and in unison they said (unintentionally):</p><p>“Call me Louie/Please call me Harry.”</p><p>“Oh this was a <em> great </em> idea.”  Sirius drawled, arching a brow and sharing a put-upon look with Fredo who muttered something along the lines of <em> great now there’s two of them </em> that everyone else politely pretended to not hear.</p><p>“Whatever mayhem they bring down on our beloved Rom.”  Came a snappy response from behind the wererats, Dr. Lillian pushing Fredo to the side with ease.  “He more than has brought upon himself.”  Dr. Lillian with her ageless beauty, silver hair, and no-nonsense manner could’ve been anywhere from fifty to eighty and Harry would believe it.  She took absolutely <em> no </em> cheek off of anyone around her and was a woman to be reckoned with.</p><p>And that way she instantly cowed Sirius into behaving through his recovery had endeared her to Harry in a way that few strongly authoritative persons managed.</p><p>Well, when he wasn’t sleeping with them or interested in sleeping with them anyway.</p><p>“Harry darling, we have those results for you.”  Lillian continued, pressing forward and kissing his cheeks even as Rafael rolled his eyes and shared commiserating glances with his lieutenants over the unabashed disregard for his authority that Lillian practiced in private - though she would <em> never </em> so potentially embarrass him in public.  “And much to discuss regarding them before our dear Rom unleashes the horde on you.”</p><p>“Let’s do that then,” Harry agreed after a confirming glance with Rafael.  As the Rodere elder and main advisor, Lillian may be comfortable riding roughshod over Rafael, but with the reminder of his boyfriend’s <em> actual </em> position in the City so recently shoved into his face, he wasn’t - at the moment anyway.  “Since I have a feeling that once Claudia and the rest have a chance to put me through my paces they’re not going to let up or take it easy on me.”</p><p>“No, I imagine not.”  Lillian agreed with a slight knowing smirk on her face.  “Casualty of taking up with this one,” Lillian tilted her head towards Rafael as she smoothly stole Harry from him, wrapping his arm in her own and towing him towards the house.  “The Rodere wants to take the measure of the one who’s captured the interest of our Rom, perhaps especially with the, hm, <em> costs </em> of a leader choosing incautiously has been made explicitly clear in recent days.”</p><p>“I’m no Raina Wallis, Lillian.”  Harry pushed down his knee-jerk reaction to the mere suggestion of it, smothering his temper before he snapped at who was probably the most influential female shifter in the entire <em> city </em> given her work with the Rodere and all of the other shifters and keeping them and their families as healthy as possible.  “And there’s no force on this earth that could turn me into someone like her.”</p><p>“That much was certainly never in question but there’s more than one way for a person in power to become a <em> problem </em> for others.  The Rodere merely wants to determine for themselves which sort you might be in the highly unlikely case that you decide to snap and take everyone around you down with you.  Nothing personal.”</p><p>“It <em> feels </em> fucking personal.”  Harry scowled, even as he heard more than <em> one </em> snicker from behind them as Lillian led the way through tunnels and out into a hallway flanked by what - from his limited knowledge on the subject - looked like a couple of science or medical labs on one side and from his <em> all-too-knowledgeable </em> on the subject eyes an infirmary on the other.</p><p>“Well, it’s not so no sulking about it, let them get on with what their instincts demand and trust your boytoy to know when or if one of them gets out of hand or crosses a line.”  She told him without a shred of sympathy, then pushed him down onto a stool next to a computer screen.</p><p>Harry looked archly up at Rafael and mouthed: <em> boytoy? </em></p><p>Honestly, if Rafael didn’t look so put-upon and long-suffering by Lillian’s attitude, Harry would probably be even more offended but he’d come to learn over the weeks that she helped take care of Sirius that his was just the way she was.</p><p>Lillian and Louie moved to the computer keyboard, murmuring softly before seeming to come to a decision and then sent Rafael a <em> look </em> together that had him sending Fredo out into the hall and activating the soundproofing on what - Harry and Sirius found out a moment later - was Louie’s lab where he did his private research out from under the aegis (and observation) of his university.</p><p>Louie turned serious eyes on them, spinning on his stool as Lillian focused on bringing up what looked like a series of lines overlapping each other, with some highlighted and others not - four of them, it looked like, with one being compared in various ways to the other three.</p><p>“When Lillian took over supervising Mr. Black’s recovery at your home, she noticed that your magic was healing him far faster than his previous baseline.”  Louie began narrating the sequence of events from his point of view, noting that his Rom and good friend had come up behind his young lover and rested his hands gently on his shoulders while Sirius propped himself against a table with his arms crossed over his chest and a deeply suspicious look on his face.  “Then, a few days later, you, Harry asked if she would bring me some blood samples to have tested against the various strains of lycanthropy.”</p><p>Both wizards nodded, Rafael looking blank but clearly looking over Louie’s head at the comparisons behind the pair of doctors with what Louie would call <em> dawning comprehension </em> if pressed.</p><p>“My Rom approved the tests and we proceeded.”  Louie continued.  “Only we swiftly ran into a problem.  We tried every test in our arsenal.  Direct contact with the various strains in a controlled environment.  Antigen tracking, antibody searches, even DNA and RNA blood panels.  Nothing we tried yielded a result.”</p><p>“What does that mean?”  Sirius asked, silver eyes going ice-cold and hard as steel.  “Nothing yielded a result?”</p><p>“We’re immune.”  Harry murmured, satisfaction curling up the corners of his mouth and flashing in his eyes.  “Aren’t we?”</p><p>“As far as we can ascertain, yes.”  Lillian answered succinctly after being given a <em> look </em> from Rafael that was nothing short of an order.</p><p>“It’s fascinating!”  Louie burst out, unable to further contain his excitement.  “It doesn’t even create an allergic reaction or rejection as far as we could tell before we ran out of blood to test.  Your blood just <em> ignores </em> it and the viruses die out - violently,” he added with a wave of his hand towards Harry.  “In your case.”</p><p>“How long is the contagion period?”  Harry asked, wanting to know more.  “And how significant is the difference between myself and Sirius’s samples?”</p><p>“For you?”  Lillian scoffed, rolling her eyes.  “Literal seconds.  No matter <em> what </em> virus or contagion we introduce - and with our contacts we were able to try more than lycanthropy strains - your blood <em> eviscerates </em> it whether it’s herpes simplex or Were-XII.”</p><p>Were-XII, the identified strain of lycanthropy responsible for creating wererats and the single most virulent strain of the virus that existed as far as any statistic or scientific process could detect.</p><p>“And me?”  Sirius asked mildly, even though his stare threatened to punch a hole through the back of Harry’s head even if he had to stare through Rafael first to manage it.  He’d known Harry had given the doctor a sample of his blood and he’d okay’d it.  He’d merely <em> assumed </em> that it had to do with his recovery and not with one of Harry’s hare-brained <em> instincts </em> or instances of Potter-Luck playing merry hell with the status quo.</p><p>The infuriating little bastard.</p><p>“About an hour.”  Louie shrugged.  “For the Were strains at least.  The other viruses and bacteria and fungi we tested against could be hit or miss.”  He grinned a bit.  “I’d stay away from smallpox by the way, from what I could tell you’ll still fight it off but it’ll take a while and quite a bit of effort to manage.”</p><p>Given that the magical strain of it in Dragon Pox used to be one of the deadliest diseases the wizarding world had to deal with before an antidote and vaccine were found, Sirius wasn’t surprised by that.</p><p>“That, however, isn’t the puzzling part.”  Lillian got them back on track, gesturing to the screen behind her.  “Rather, what <em> else </em> was found in the DNA and RNA mapping involved in testing for remnants of the viruses.  Tell me,” her stare was piercing at the pair of them.  “Are you <em> aware </em> that you’re a different species of humanoid entirely or was Mr. Potter operating on one of his <em> hunches?” </em></p><p>…</p><p>“<em>Homo praecantatio,” </em> Harry offered quietly into the wash of silence that followed Dr. Lillian’s question.</p><p>To the discerning eye, it was clear to see that while the news <em> was </em> news to Sirius from his goggle eyed look at the pair of doctors and his confuddled stare at the sliver of his godson’s head he could see around the bulk of Rafael, it was <em> also </em> clear that rather than a shock to Harry it was a confirmation of a theory.</p><p>His expression wasn’t quite satisfied or smug or even triumphant despite the fact that he had a species label ready at hand.</p><p>It was accepting.</p><p>As if he’d had time to process a possibility and as a result wasn’t perturbed that said possibility ended up being truth.</p><p>“Not fae, not <em> homo sapien, </em> not lycanthrope, but with markers of all three, am I right?”  Harry asked pointing to the screens.</p><p>“You are.”  Louie nodded after trading a considering look with Lillian, then highlighted the parts of the gene code Harry and Sirius - and whatever they <em> were </em> - shared commonality with the different species.  “<em>Homo arcanus</em>,” or fae, “Is where you have the largest portion of commonality, but both of you share distinct DNA markers with both baseline humans and lycanthropes.”</p><p>“How long have you been working on this, pup?”  Sirius asked, shocked down to his toes.  His parents had always <em> said </em> that muggles were different than wizards but he’d thought that was their prejudice not anything grounded in <em> fact </em> beyond wizards having magic and muggles not.  It also was worthy of noting that while his new home had the type of technology to discern the differences - which were small to him with more overlap than not - their old world must not have had the same otherwise keeping to the Statute of Secrecy would’ve been a losing proposition.</p><p>“The thought occurred to me as soon as I learned about Fae having their own species designation.”  Harry admitted truthfully while not letting Rafael or anyone else in on just <em> how </em> short of a time that actually was.  “Since I knew you were at least partially immune to lycanthropy I thought it was better to ask the question than not and find out the hard way - one way or another - that we were or weren’t immune.  As far as the species thing,” he shrugged, looking back at his godfather over his shoulder, leaning a bit around Rafael to manage it.  “I wasn’t expecting that to be figured out - at least not today - but it was a thought since it seems all magic users that aren’t <em> us </em> have at least some fae heritage.”</p><p>Sirius cocked his head and arched a brow in wordless question about <em> how </em> Harry had gotten that thought.</p><p>“Different evolution trees.”  Harry said, the others taking it as a non-sequitur while Sirius pursed his lips and gave a shrug-nod combination that might as well actually say <em> makes as much sense as anything else. </em></p><p>“If the virus won’t take.”  Rafael asked, voice filled with a tension that wasn’t showing otherwise, but had all of them looking at him in worry or concern, Harry reaching up and taking hold of one of his hands.  “Will a mating mark?”</p><p>Louie opened his mouth to answer only to find himself stymied, turning with a frown marring his face to share a puzzled glance with Lillian.</p><p>“Most likely it will.”  Sirius answered for them, shrugging again then Rafael turned to look at him and he found himself fielding demanding glances from the doctors.  “Jean-Claude’s marks took and are a mixture of magical and metaphysical.  No reason I can see for a magical-metaphysical bond of another type to fail but <em> I’m </em> not the expert in the room on bonds or gone mucking about with mateships lately.  Pup?”</p><p>Put back on the spot, Harry considered his words carefully, picking his way through truths he didn’t want to share in search of ones that would suit.</p><p>“Other than the fact that it was corrupt, there was nothing about the bond between Raina and Marcus that seemed incompatible with the sort of bonds a wizard can form.”</p><p>“That’s what you are then?”  Louie asked, fascinated as he watched the strange pair.  “Wizards?”</p><p>“Wizarding Kind, in English, if you want to be specific.”  Sirius told them.  “Mortal cousins of the Fae, if it makes it easier for you to tolerate, lifespan of a human, powers of significant - but varying - magical abilities.”</p><p>Rafael heard them but he wasn’t really <em> there </em> at that moment.</p><p>All he was focusing on was Harry’s hand wrapped around the back of his own, his eyes looking into his, and the knowledge that if it suited them, there was <em> nothing </em> standing in the way of their mating.</p><p>Except, of course, for a master vampire who at the moment was doing one <em> hell </em> of a job hiding his possessive streak.</p><p>…</p><p>Battery was right.</p><p>Harry felt like he’d been wrung through a clothes wringer and it wasn’t even dusk yet by the time the call went out for dinner.</p><p>The Rodere had been nibbling at tables laden with snacks from vegetable trays to a concoction called deviled eggs to various platters of cold cuts and fruit for hours with the scent of roasting meat hanging heavy and mouth-watering in the air.</p><p>Harry had been eyed up, scoffed and leered at, ignored, treated with outright suspicion, and (the smallest group) enjoyed actual friendly conversations ever since Rafael and the others led him and Sirius out into the masses of wererats and their families before Louie promptly disappeared.  Rafael was tugged hither and yon, not able to spend every second with Harry as he handled Rodere antics - which was fine, Harry didn’t need a minder though he appreciated the care - but Lillian and Fredo were constant shadows.  Especially Fredo who didn’t say much but when he <em> did </em> tended to be either sarcastic, incisive, or both.</p><p>He hadn’t felt <em> this </em> on display since Fourth Year at Hogwarts - which considering that he’s been attending vampire court and playing the perfect human servant was really saying something.</p><p>The massive house was for more than looks as Harry had gotten an inkling of from the labs and medical facilities tucked away on the first floor.  He’d also been right: it <em> was </em> in the shape of a U with the open portion backed up against the hill and leading right into the tunnels below the city.  Rafael’s “Rom” residence wasn’t the entire place either - or perhaps, it wasn’t that way <em> since </em> Rafael became the Rom, facts were a little fuzzy on that point.</p><p>One arm of the house sheltered the youth of the Rodere along with their allies among the rest of the shifters of the city.  If a young person who’d been turned ended up out of house for any reason or was at risk of being sent into the foster care system, the Rodere swooped in and rehomed them into the wing overseen by none other than the lovely Claudia, one of Rafael’s lieutenants.  The other wing housed the bulk of the single wererats without other family who tended to work as bodyguards or security for shifter and/or vampire owned businesses around the area.</p><p>Or like that scary motherfucker Bobby Lee with his facial scarring from the job as a human that turned him into a wererat who still did “jobs” outside of the city though all of <em> that </em> kind of work had to be approved by Rafael.</p><p>Scary Motherfucker was also in charge of the wing that - barring a better label - was the Rodere’s barracks.</p><p>Then Rafael actually lived and managed the Rodere affairs out of the “main” front wing of the mansion - which, really explained quite a lot about why he’d always come to Harry’s and not the other way around before now.</p><p>Trying to have time to themselves had been a chore at times with just Sirius and sometimes a minder down the hall, having so many shifters - other wings or not - under the same roof was <em> begging </em> to get interrupted for one reason or another when their Rom was so close rather than take care of matters without his intervention.</p><p>From the way it was explained to him and the dynamics he was seeing play out in various ways, Rafael had a handful of close lieutenants - like Bobby Lee, Fredo, Claudia, and his Second Louie - who in turn checked in with a set amount of other members of the Rodere, who in turn kept track of others, and so on.</p><p>It wasn’t unlike the Head Boy/Girl-&gt;Prefect-&gt;Student system he was familiar with from Hogwarts for all that with the way everyone jumped to obey Rafael had more in common with what he’d heard of the military than anything else.</p><p>But as long as it worked, since if Rafael had to be hands-on with <em> every </em> member of the Rodere, there wouldn’t be time in the day for anything else and even then some of them would still likely fall through the cracks.</p><p>That kind of micromanagement probably worked well for a small shifter group like the wereleopard pard with their single-digit membership but not so much with hundreds.</p><p>By the time food came around, Harry was <em> more </em> than ready to sit down and eat, and found himself tucked into a seat at a picnic table with what he thought of - privately - as Rafael’s inner circle plus himself and Sirius: Dr. Lillian, Louie, Fredo, Lisandro, Claudia, and Bobby Lee for all that that scary motherfucker still freaked Harry out even if he didn’t know <em> why </em> yet.</p><p>He smiled and nodded to a couple of the guys he recognized from working on his house in Jimmy and Doug - neither of whom struck him as an alpha but he might just be judging the Rodere on the strongest they had to offer instead of the average - and one of Sirius’s guards from the hospital who - come to find out - was Fredo’s nephew, Godofredo who everyone just called God.</p><p>“Verdict, pup?”  Sirius murmured lowly as he leaned over and silently cast a muffling charm.  He’d certainly enjoyed his pup being run through a gauntlet - even if some of the more <em> irritating </em> members of the Rodere he wanted to hex into next week for sneering or leering at his pup, though he had a feeling Rafael was <em> more </em> than capable of handling things once Fredo and the good doctor report to him - as well as being eyed up by several of the shifters that he’d never met before.  Wererats were tricksie like that and did hiding in plain sight better than anyone he’d ever met.</p><p>“I can take it.”  Harry shrugged off the mild - from his perspective - hazing.  “They’re protective of their Rom, I can respect that.  They’ll calm down when they figure out I’m not using him for Jean-Claude or my own amusement.”</p><p>“Think that’s behind it?”</p><p>Harry cast a glance over towards some of the more overtly hostile groups - most of which were people he’d pegged for Rafael and/or the Rodere pulling them out of shitty situations, like the kids that were housed in the Rodere residence - then nodded.</p><p>“Some of it at least.”  He arched a brow.  “The rest of it...well, I’ll deal with that when it comes.”</p><p>“If your Rom doesn’t deal with it first.”  Sirius warned him, the pair smiling innocently at Rafael who was watching them with arched brows and blatant suspicion as the Rom was the first one to realize that he couldn’t hear them despite Harry being literally right next to him.  Though the rest of the table weren’t far behind him.  “He’s only cuddly with you and kids.”  He waved his fork nonchalantly at the shifters surrounding them.  “You don’t manage a group this large from an autocratic position by being a lamb.”</p><p>“Being a lion doesn’t make him dangerous to me, Siri.”  Harry sighed, pouting a little.  “Or mean that he’ll hurt one of his own to defend me when he knows better than most just how dangerous <em>  I </em>am, or did you forget the part where he played witness to mine and Jean-Claude's coup?”</p><p>“Nope, didn’t forget it.”  Sirius admitted, but didn’t pursue the subject any longer at a warning look from his godson.  “I don’t think he’s nearly as <em> tame </em> as you do, but I’m not sleeping with him either so…”</p><p>Harry flicked his fingers and dropped the charm, done with that bit of conversation, and turned back to Claudia to talk some more about a subject that interested him - namely, how they tracked and trained and educated the street kids that ended up that way and shifters for one reason or another.</p><p>Though he didn’t get that far before Bobby Lee interrupted in his gruff manner.</p><p>“You really took on a pack of ghoul yourself?”  The middle aged wererat with his thick Southern drawl asked.  “And walked away without a scratch, little thing like you?”</p><p>The scoff was implied but - likely due to his respect for Rafael if Harry had to guess - not outright stated.</p><p>Harry slowly put down his fork, reaching out and taking a drink of his lemonade nice and slow, keeping eye contact with murky clouded-sky blue eyes the entire time as several of the other conversations around them trickled off as the mini-confrontation caught their attention.</p><p>Lifting one hand, he propped his elbow on the table and made sure that the Scary Motherfucker had a clear view of his hand.</p><p>A moment later he twirled his fingers ending in a position as if he was holding a pen despite his hand being empty, as his hand from wrist to fingertips became wreathed in white flames that burned blue and purple at the edges that were several inches above his skin.</p><p>“I’ve found, Bobby Lee.”  Harry said idly and completely unperturbed as if he was talking about the weather.  “That most things die when you <em> set them on fire.” </em></p><p>“Yer a fire bug.”  Bobby Lee pursed his lips, brows lifted a little in surprise.  “That makes a lotta sense.  That how ya killed Nikolaos’s little pets too?”</p><p>“Zachary, absolutely.”  Harry nodded firmly - and more than a little freaked out that he was coming to a meeting of minds with a male he’s tagged as a fucking psycho - then let the flames dissipate before lowering his hand.  “Fire cleanses and purifies.  Dealing with these corrupted corpse-fucking necromancers - well the only solution for the ones that go wrong like him is the pyre.  Burchard was a clean kill.  Not his fault some asshole thought that turning a kid was a <em> good idea </em> and then unleashed her on the world to take him as her servant.”</p><p>Sirius merely sighed.  “You know they have to use their gifts or their gifts will use them, Harry.”</p><p>“I know.”  Harry said, shrugging.  “But there’s clean rituals that some of them apparently use and then there’s cockwombles like Zachary.  He nearly <em> killed you</em>, Siri.  He was dead the moment he gave the order, he just didn’t know it yet.”</p><p>Bobby Lee glanced over the others’ heads and caught his boss’s - and Rom’s - eye, then gave a firm nod.</p><p>“Oh fuck.”  Claudia cursed, though it was good-natured.  “Bobby Lee <em> likes </em> him.  Someone better invest in flak jackets, I think we’re going to need them.”</p><p>“Nothing wrong with a little, precisely applied, bit of killin’.”  Bobby Lee countered, pointing his fork at her.  “Some fuckers <em> need </em> killin’ an’ ain’t no one gonna convince me otherwise.”</p><p>“You are a scary motherfucker.”  Harry commented, a bit impressed despite himself at the wererat’s sheer heartless pragmatism.  He narrowed his eyes and ventured a guess: “Sociopath?”</p><p>“Never been <em> officially </em> tested-like.”  Bobby Lee shrugged, never being one for head-shrinking.  “That one,” he jerked his head towards Dr. Lillian who always sat as a buffer between him and the rest of the Rodere when Rafael was needed elsewhere.  Or in this case wanted to cuddle with his fire bug.  “Says probably so.”</p><p>“Huh.”  Claudia eyed him, having never actually put that together.  Mainly because she - generally speaking - wanted nothing to do with the asshole and <em> definitely </em> wanted him far away from her charges when she wasn’t on a job.  “I don’t know if that makes your,” she waved a hand at the scarred alpha wererat.  “Everything better or worse.”</p><p>“Doesn’t matter.”  Rafael cut in.  “Bobby Lee is an alpha and asset of the Rodere, the same with the rest of you.  And that’s all the matters at this table.”</p><p>“Yes, Rom.”</p><p>Harry smirked a little, leaning up and whispering in Rafa’s ear - muffling charm in place: <em> “I kinda like it when you go all Alpha Rom.” </em></p><p>For his part, Sirius didn’t know if he should be impressed that all it took was a whisper from his godson to make Rafael blush to the tips of his ears or disgusted.</p><p>But either way: he <em> did not </em> want to think about whatever it was the mischievous little bastard just said to his boyfriend.</p><p>No way, no how.</p><p>Hard pass.</p><p>Thank you very much.</p><p>He’d just sit and enjoy his pork ribs and coleslaw with a cold beer while having a quiet little mental celebration - because he didn’t for one second believe that Harry had let Raina Wallis just <em> go </em> after hearing a run through of her confession with Storr off of the tape Harry gave him.</p><p>Sirius had turned it into RPIT but had kept it very “anonymous source” and blank, untraceable mailer in the process.</p><p>Ding dong the bitch is dead.</p><p>Both of them, as a matter of fact, and it wouldn’t be long before Harry tracked down Gabriel or Sirius would eat his wand polish and all.</p><p>No, things were starting to turn around in St. Louis.</p><p>Now if only his godson could <em> stop </em> with the PDA that he was half-certain was meant to skeeve Sirius out, things would be golden indeed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Content/Trigger Warning for Graphic Descriptions of Gore and Off-Screen Murder, Rape, and Torture.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Honor Bound</b> </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Chapter Nine: Rampage</b>
</p><p>Harry opened his door having woken up from a deep sleep spent walking through the halls of what Jean-Claude confided was his childhood home and beginning his instruction in actual Occlumency now that it seemed as if the growth of his mindscape was slowing down after the initial burst post-link.  Neither of them were the sorts to leave things up to chance if they could help it, and Harry wasn’t comfortable leaving Jean-Claude reliant on <em> Harry </em> having functional mental shields or on borrowing the same via their bond to protect his mind.  Everything he’d been told about vampires - specifically the habits of the eldest of the species still wandering around - made that seem like a <em> very fucking bad idea. </em></p><p>Off the top of his head, he could think of several ways the link could shut down or Harry’s shields fall - even if several of them required wizarding magic to manage - and that was without mentioning his concerns to Jean-Claude whose tricky mind would probably come up with dozens more.</p><p>Seeing who his wards had warned him had arrived, Harry sighed and shook his head then propped his shoulder on the jamb and crossed his arms over his chest.</p><p>Somehow looking at the stern expression on Sgt. Bearpaw’s - aka Rudolph Storr, the head of RPIT - face and the worried look in his partner Zerbrowski’s eyes, he had a strong impression that this wasn’t going to be anything like the genial conversation over breakfast that he’d enjoyed with Storr previously.  A quick skim - Storr not thinking to avoid his gaze as Harry was, as far as he knew, <em> human </em> - told him all he needed to know to decide his next steps and how he was going to handle the latest speedbump in hunting down Gabriel.  He certainly wasn’t going to be able to do anything about tracking the bastard wereleopard if he was locked in a cell.</p><p>“What can I do for the fine fellows of RPIT today, Sgt. Storr?”  Harry asked despite already knowing.  No need to give away the game and Storr didn’t even have the mildest of magical ability or fae heritage to warn him that Harry’d been digging.  “Not another consult I’d imagine with <em> my dad </em> back on his feet?”</p><p>“We need you to come with us, Mr. Potter.”  Storr told him stoically even as Zerbrowski winced a little at Harry’s sardonic tone.</p><p>“Have I been accused of something?”  Harry arched a brow, both police officers noting that he didn’t ask if he’d <em> done </em> something but if he’d been accused.  As if the <em> possibility </em> of him actually having broken the law would never even occur to him.</p><p>“We just need to have a talk about one of your clients, Mr. Potter.”  Zerbrowski stepped in to reassure him.  “On the record.”</p><p>Harry shot them a surprised glance.  “Surely you’re aware that the very <em> nature </em> of my work is bound in discretion.  Magically enforced by contract.  According to the laws of this fine land, there’s not much I’ll be able to tell you about any of my work.”</p><p>Which was a fine bunch of bullshit he was selling them but factual as far as most magical services including Animation having a legally-recognized binding element via contract.</p><p>He didn’t use them, since the kind of work <em> he </em> did was now tucked under the purview of being the human servant of the Master of the City - a position that had legally protected status much like spousal privilege - but the police didn’t need to know about any of that.</p><p>Especially since they were there to question him about the death of Raina Wallis.</p><p>The manner of how they’d come to be knocking on <em> his </em> door one that was sure to infuriate both Jean-Claude and Marcus once he finished tracking it down to be certain.</p><p>In the meantime, he left the policemen standing on his porch as he went inside to change, the veritable <em> picture </em> of cooperation, and sent off a text to Jean-Claude, Shang-Da (still playing Head of Day Security), and Marcus to warn them.</p><p>The Pack apparently had a leak that trickled into the ear of one Ms. Anita Blake, animator and vampire executioner.</p><p>Marcus was going to be <em> epically pissed </em> and even though Harry was furious with the Ulfric, he couldn’t blame him for it for a moment.</p><p>…</p><p>Harry was more entertained than was probably sane over being led into the RPIT’s bullpen in the St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department.</p><p>But it was either laugh or strangle that smug little bitch of a corpse-fucking necromancer that was staring at him where she was sitting in front of one of the desks and chatting with the cops around her.</p><p>A smirk twitched at his mouth as he raised one hand - just to show that no matter <em> what </em> she had said to her buddies to implicate him, he wasn’t under arrest - and twiddled his fingers at her in a mocking little wave.  Blake’s face darkened and a sneer marred what was otherwise a quite lovely face.  Especially when it was clear that while Storr had gotten him out of bed - his hair was a <em> total loss </em> for the day/night until he could shower - he’d been given time to clean up and even driven himself over as the motorcycle helmet in his other hand and the pressed dress shirt he was wearing in purple tucked into his leather riding trousers made clear.</p><p>She stared him down long enough for Harry to confirm who she’d heard about his being at the Lupanar from - and <em> oh </em> Marcus’s reaction was going to be nuclear even though her <em> source </em> likely had no fucking clue that his girlfriend was going to run with an idle comment right to the police - since whatever native magics she had protecting her from vampires, a quirk of necromancers apparently, they did precisely nothing against actual Legilimency.</p><p>“So,” Storr said after leading Harry into an interview room - not nearly as stark and bleak as TV made them to seem, unless this was for strictly cooperating witnesses and not suspects - and reading off the introductory bits about his name, who was taking his statement, and his rights.  Zerbrowski set down a pair of pictures on the table between them - Harry not flinching for a moment at the sight of either of them.  “Two days ago, fishermen on the river pulled in their nets and found this,” he used his pen to nudge the picture or Raina’s decapitated head closer towards Harry, the wizard being obliging and picked it up to study his handiwork after it’d been left to the mercies of the water and fish for a couple days.</p><p>Though he <em> did </em> find it interesting that the police had had Raina’s remains for days and yet the supernatural population were none the wiser of it.</p><p>“Explains that bit about you wanting to know about my clients.”  Was Harry’s only comment as he gently put the 8x10 picture back onto the table.</p><p>“Right.”  Storr nodded.  “We finally identified her as Raina Wallis, manager of a local cafe in the University District and as we’ve come to find out: a werewolf.  One who according to our sources, and attempts to track her whereabouts before her approximate time of death, placed you as one of the last people to see Ms. Wallis alive before she disappears and then shows up more than a day later in the river.”</p><p>“Me and every other member of the local pack.”  Harry arched a brow.  “Including him,” he reached out and tapped the picture of a truly <em> torn up </em> wolf that he recognized as one of Raina’s supporters.  One who now happened to be missing his heart and most of his ribcage from what Harry could see.  “Though I never actually met him or got his name, but he was there too.”</p><p>“There?”</p><p>“Werewolf meeting place.”  Harry shrugged.  He had to admit that dancing his way around lying outright was a <em> lot </em> easier when he knew exactly what Blake had been told and in turn how she’d spun things to the police.  “Ms. Wallis apparently was a naughty girl and got herself kicked out of the pack.  Their leader gave her a grace period to get out of his territory.”</p><p>“Then what were you doing there, Mr. Potter?”  Zerbrowki pressed, <em> certain </em> that there had to be more to it but he couldn’t put in his finger on why.  “If it was a pack matter?”</p><p>“Backup.”  He retorted blandly.  “Just in case the banishing didn’t take on its own.  From what I understand, Ms. Wallis was the most powerful female in the pack.  The leader wanted <em> certainty </em> that she was cut off from the pack, which was where I came in.”</p><p>“And were your services needed?”</p><p>“The banishing took just fine.”  Harry pursed his lips. “From what I could tell anyway but: I’m not a werewolf or a member of the pack so any <em> certainty </em> would have to come from them.  Since the leader didn’t need me to cut her off from the pack, I’d have to say everything went to plan.  I left the wolves to their business and that was that.”</p><p>…</p><p>“What’s your take on him?”  Storr asked his partner after Potter had been released and thanked for his time, Blake more than a bit <em> put out </em> that they had nothing to hold him on and he’d failed to incriminate himself.</p><p>Which was turning into a problem.</p><p>Because if she dragged RPIT into whatever pissing match she was having with the kid, then even <em> if </em> they catch him dead-to-rights some day on a crime they’d have one <em> hell </em> of a time even getting charges brought when Blake was doing a damn good job establishing bias against him all on her lonesome.</p><p>“Sirius’s kid?”  Zebrowski made a face then shrugged.  “He’s a cool customer, a lot more controlled than our favorite consultant.  A lot better at lying too, even if I don’t know <em> what </em> he was lying about.  Something didn’t ring true anyway.  But I don’t think he’s dangerous in the way Blake is convinced he is either.”</p><p>“Fair enough.”  Storr nodded.  It matched up with his own impression of the kid at least.  “Ask Black - friendly - about his kid.  See if we can get anymore information or background on him than the basics we’ve already pulled.”</p><p>“Will do.”</p><p>…</p><p>Harry walked out of the police station more than a little frustrated at having the bulk of his day co-opted because a wolf had loose lips and his girlfriend carried a grudge.</p><p>That said, Harry wasn’t going to dip so much as a <em> toe </em> into those waters to start clearing them up.</p><p>Oh no, after all the shit Marcus had let slide for whatever fucked-up rationale he used to justify turning a blind eye to his mate running roughshod over half the shifters in the city, he <em> deserved </em> to have to deal with that little clusterfuck on his own.</p><p>Richard had just been stupid, letting slip pack business to his girlfriend, <em> especially </em> as the Freki, but Anita?  Her vindictive pleasure at seeing him escorted into the station had been <em> all </em> too clear to read, and not just for him.  As well as her dismay when he walked right back out a couple hours later.</p><p>He didn’t know yet if Ms. Blake was going to be a problem for him that he’d have to handle.</p><p>For her sake he hoped not.</p><p>Especially since it appeared that at least some of Sirius’s friends from RPIT would miss her if he had to make her disappear.</p><p>Turning on his red blackberry, Harry swung onto his bike and stared at the handful of messages waiting for him before landing on one and letting out a vicious curse at the time stamp.</p><p>Ignore that: if Anita’s little power-play against him cost him or anyone he cares about so much as an <em> ounce </em> of blood, she’s going to find out the hard way why pissing off a Blood Mage was a dangerous proposition for lesser magicals.</p><p>Banishing the helmet - since he didn’t need it when he wasn’t dealing with an actual police escort who might pick up on him ignoring the helmet laws - back to his house, Harry started the engine on his bike with a throaty growl of the ignition and throttle, then tore out of the parking lot and into the early evening traffic like a hellhound after a mark.</p><p>…</p><p>Robert looked up in sheer relief when he saw his maker’s human servant storm through the employee entrance at <em> Guilty Pleasures</em>, even with a dark look on his handsome face that made murder seem imminent.</p><p>Harry caught the pale blue eyes with a demanding glance, still more than a little put out over the curly-haired vampire’s antics that ended with Jean-Claude’s imprisonment - however temporary - by Nikolaos.  Robert was bright <em> enough </em> to serve his maker in the club, dancing for the rabid audiences that filled it to slaver over the male dancers - ninety percent of which were supernatural - and managing schedules and overseeing payroll and like, but he wasn’t nearly as intelligent as Jean-Claude.  Honestly, if it weren’t for Harry having made the acquaintance of Jean’s <em> first </em> progeny, he would worry between Robert and Gretchen that his vampire was as vain as the rest of his line and changed for looks first and everything else after.</p><p>Not to say that Rosa <em> wasn’t </em> gorgeous - she was, Harry finding himself preferring her dark, sultry beauty to the pale blond perfection of Robert and Gretchen - but her loyalty to Jean-Claude and keen intelligence gave her that little something <em> extra </em> that put her a cut above the average vampire.</p><p>She also, like Gretchen and unlike Robert the three of them the only progeny of his lover that he’s met thus far, was a master vampire though both older and stronger than her blond “sister” - and given that Jean-Claude often gave her orders that had her acting alone for months or years at a time, far more trusted than either of the pair Jean kept close where he could watch them.</p><p>“Thank the Mother, you’re here.”  Robert said, zipping over to Harry with a vampire’s supernatural blink-and-miss-it speed and walking with him as Harry half-jogged to the stairs up to Jean-Claude’s office.  “It was all I could do to keep them from doing something rash before you or Master Jean-Claude arrived.”</p><p>“I was held up.”  Harry told him absently, frowning.  “What’s the emergency?”</p><p>“Neither Gregory or Nathaniel arrived for their shifts.”  Robert hurried to explain.  “And none of the phone numbers or contacts that either Stephen,” Gregory’s twin brother though he’d been turned by a werewolf while Gregory was one of the handful of local were<em> leopards</em>, “or Jason have are picking up or calling back.”</p><p>Robert looked over and down at his Master’s human and then burst out as Harry pushed the door to the office where the pair of frantic werewolves were waiting.</p><p>“And <em> why are you smiling?!” </em></p><p>“Because,” Harry was indeed smiling, even as he moved to gather up Jason in a hug and then reached out to squeeze one of Stephen’s shoulders as the china-doll-perfect werewolf stared at him hopefully and Jason clung to him.  “Gabriel doesn’t know it yet but he <em> just fucked up.” </em></p><p>“What do you mean?”  Jason asked, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder with a soft sigh, certain to his bones that Harry would fix it.  Well, either him or Jean-Claude.</p><p>Neither of them were known to be <em> kind </em> to those who messed with what was <em> theirs </em> and per the agreement with Gabriel and Jean-Claude, Nathaniel was still very much in debt to the Master.</p><p>Stephen wasn’t looking <em> quite </em> as confident in a safe outcome as his friend, and even though he hadn’t been close to Gregory since Gabriel had taken over the pard and the alpha worked to isolate all of his submissive shifters, he was worried that whatever Harry found wouldn’t be a pair of leopards alive and well.</p><p>“I’ve never met Gabriel, so I couldn’t track him.”  Harry told them calmly, looking eyes with Jean-Claude as the Master vampire appeared in the doorway with his guards - Damian and Perrin tonight - behind him.  “And I couldn’t be certain that either of the pard members I’ve met were with him so I held off on using that route to try and find him.  But…”</p><p>“As neither have shown up nor called,” Jean-Claude finished the thought, coming over to his <em> tresor </em> at once and pressing a kiss to his temple in greeting then running the back of his fingers across Jason’s cheek.  “It would be safe to assume that they are with the <em> chat répulsif, oui?” </em></p><p>Harry nodded, “that’s right.  At least it’s worth a shot.”</p><p>Jean-Claude met his eyes, darkest blue meeting bright emerald green.</p><p>
  <em> What will you do? </em>
</p><p>Harry flicked a glance at their audience.  <em> Make him regret the moment he touched what I’ve decided is mine. </em></p><p>
  <em> Mon minet is quite endearing. </em>
</p><p><em> Just so.  </em> Harry’s eyes flashed.  <em> What are the rules? </em></p><p><em> Against you?  None.  We had an agreement, he broke it.  As my partner you are within your rights to demand any recompense from him you’d like.  And as the Pack is significantly in our debt for you taking care of </em> their <em> problem so swiftly, none of the shifters in the city will </em> dare <em> speak against whatever actions you choose to take against the chat répulsif. </em></p><p>“Whatever it takes, <em> mon tresor.  </em>So long as you come back to me.”</p><p>Harry’s smile was teasing as he disengaged from Jason and Stephen, rising up on his toes and stealing a kiss from <em> his </em> vampire.</p><p>“I always will, <em> mon cher.” </em></p><p>“Take a guard, just in case.”  Jean-Claude insisted with a firm look at his little monster that made it clear he wouldn’t be budged on this matter, no matter how pleased he was at Harry’s public admission of having - as his lover would put it - <em> soft feelings </em> for him, a break from their normal united partnership public demeanor.  He tilted his head towards the pair of ancient warriors who had accompanied him.  “Either of them would meet the sun before allowing your death, <em> mon tresor.” </em></p><p>Harry eyed Jean-Claude for a moment, then smiled a little with a small - hidden from the others - eye roll, then looked at the pair of Vikings in clear demand.</p><p>“Well?”  He asked.  “Who’s going to babysit me tonight?”</p><p>After sharing a look of their own - a bit pleading on Damian’s part and sheer exasperation on Perrin’s, as the former hadn’t yet decided what he was going to do about the, er, <em> green light </em> his new Master had given him when it came to his Master’s human - Perrin shoved Damian forward preempting any attempt on his kinsman’s part to demure.</p><p>“Damian will be <em> proud </em> to accept such a charge from our Master.”</p><p>Harry’s <em> look </em> nearly shouted that he doubted that but he didn’t fight the decision from the pair either way as Jean-Claude pressed another kiss on Harry then disappeared back out of the room with Perrin on his heels, having another full night of managing the kiss ahead of him though it was at <em> last </em> starting to wane.</p><p>“There’s just one rule for playing my guard, Damian.”  Harry warned him as he stepped up and craned his head back to warn the vampire.  “<em>Don’t </em> get in my way or in front of me - or I won’t be responsible for you going up like a candle if a spell catches you.”</p><p>“I understand,” Damian nodded slightly, then followed the small human out of the room when he gave a soft huff and marched off after ordering Robert to keep Stephen and Jason in the office and safe until he returned or Jean-Claude sent for them.</p><p>A charge that Robert was <em> most </em> happy to complete rather than being the one potentially in the line of Harry’s fire.</p><p>He could see what had drawn his Master to the smaller human.  The life and fire and passion.  It also made him starkly <em> dangerous </em> in a way that was visceral to a survivor like Robert.</p><p>Given the choice, he’d have nothing at all to do with his Master’s human.</p><p>Too bad that as a rather average-powered vampire who would never be a master in his own right, even in the service of a master so lenient as Jean-Claude, there wasn’t much <em> choice </em> to be had when it came to his Master’s orders.</p><p>Harry stepped up to Damian as they stepped outside, looking up into that handsome face then smiled as he wrapped his arm around the taller - and much broader - male’s waist.</p><p>“Hold tight.”  He warned him.</p><p>Damian arched a brow at the demand but listened to it anyway, circling the wizard’s shoulders with his arms and grasping his own arms below the elbow, effectively trapping the smaller man in a cage of his arms.</p><p>Smirking a bit - he couldn’t <em> wait </em> to see a vampire’s reaction to magical transportation and had a feeling that at the least it would rattle him out of his stoic guard persona - Harry pulled Damian flat against him and spun in place easily turning the larger male with him and then was gone from the shadows behind <em> Guilty Pleasures </em> with a soft <em> pop. </em></p><p>…</p><p>Damian wobbled on landing and felt his gorge rise - a sensation he hasn’t felt in <em> centuries </em> - as one moment he felt his entire body being crushed and then the next his ears rang as if someone had hit him with the side of a broadsword.</p><p>“What was <em> that?” </em>  He couldn’t help but demand even though questions were unbecoming of a mere guard however favored by their Master.</p><p>“Magical transportation spell.”  Harry watched him a bit bemused.  Other than a clench of his arms around Harry’s shoulder and the wobble on landing, Damian hadn’t reacted all that badly.  Except for the outburst but he’d been <em> going </em> for that anyway so it wasn’t a big deal.  “Apparation.”</p><p>Harry stepped out of Damian’s suddenly lax hold, the vampire letting him loose as soon as Harry turned away from their near-embrace, studying the area they’d landed in.</p><p>He’d been following his <em> sense </em> of Nathaniel and Gregory - though granted more of the former than the latter as he’d paid more attention to the pretty redhead than he’d done Stephen’s identical twin when he’d been around them - and wasn’t entirely sure about where it had led him, beyond that he’d used magic to land them a distance away in a clear area.</p><p>A park, as it turned out, the sort with sports fields and playground equipment rather than open spaces.</p><p>Merlin help him, Gabriel was hiding out in <em> suburbia. </em></p><p>Or near it, at least.</p><p>From Harry’s perspective as they moved carefully out of the park and took in the area surrounding it, Gabriel had decided to go to ground - because without Raina stopping them, the wolves she’d allowed him to torment were out for <em> blood </em> - in what looked like the equivalent of a village-type area.  A self-contained community within the larger city, actually pretty common to find in London and something he was more than used to.  He saw streets of houses, a couple tall buildings with apartments, plenty of businesses, and even a couple churches on opposing ends of the square.</p><p>One of the churches, however, at first glance appeared condemned and after tradiging a knowing glance with Damian, Harry started for it following the pull in his chest that was his magic tracking Nathaniel.</p><p>Color him unsurprised that Gabriel - who apparently wore silver piercings due to how much he was in love with pain - had decided to set up shop and defile what some would consider <em> sacred ground. </em></p><p>Harry, thankfully, wasn’t one of them so if the wereleopard was hoping on that little cherry being the thing to push whichever of his pursuers actually found him over the edge and into making a mistake, he was going to be shockingly disappointed.</p><p>As they strode over to the dilapidated structure on silent feet, Harry asked:</p><p>“What can you tell me about who’s inside?”</p><p>Damian took a deep and otherwise unneeded save to talk breath as he listened carefully.</p><p>He didn’t doubt that his Master’s human was as dangerous and potentially lethal as everyone seemed eager to warn him about.  Damian simply knew all too well that the difference between dangerous and lethal often relied on solid, factual information before going into a dangerous situation.  He wouldn’t allow his Master’s human to have his hand forced because his information was wrong if he could help it.</p><p>His existence was one of penance for the suffering that he and his had spread in their human lives - his former Mistress had made that clear, ground it into his very being.</p><p>Now that he belonged to Jean-Claude, his penance was changed at the will of his new Master into one of service rather than submission to his Mistress’s will.</p><p>Perrin had hope that Damian would return to who he once was, one day, now that they were away from their former Mistress.  Damian didn’t know if such a thing were possible, if he even <em> remembered </em> who he was as human.  What he <em> did </em> know was that if it were possible for him to become a person rather than a tool once more, it would be at the hands of Jean-Claude and his human and not in service to merely another like the one from which he had been freed.</p><p>He would <em> not </em> fail his new Master in one of the first tasks ever set before him.</p><p>He would <em> not. </em></p><p>“Seven alive,” he reported, voice pitched just high enough for Harry to hear without straining.  “It stinks of blood and death and agony.  Many have died here.  The blood is so thick it almost obscures all else but...wolves I would say are the dead while there is plenty of blood and agony and fear from those still alive.  And madness.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry sighed, shaking his head.  “I wished that surprised me.  Are any of the living in immediate danger of having that status take a sudden downturn?”</p><p><em> Is anyone in need of immediate rescue? </em>  Damian heard the question the human didn’t ask quite clearly indeed.</p><p>“Perhaps one.”  He reported reluctantly after another moment listening to hearts beat and lungs expand and contract and blood rush through veins.  “At the far end of the chapel, I would say based on the layout of most churches.  In pain and weak, moreso than all the rest.  His heart is slowing every moment, perhaps has an,” Damian frowned, trying to estimate something muddled up by not knowing if the one he was hearing was shifter or human or something else entirely.  “Hour, at most, if he was a strong shifter before being tortured.”</p><p>Because <em> that </em> is what he was hearing and smelling: torture and the aftermath thereof.</p><p>Harry’s eyes flashed with bloody intent, nodding shortly, and then held out his hand towards the doors of the church, grasping onto them with his power.  Turning his head just a bit to give Damian a sideways glance, Harry smirked.  And then snapped his fingers, the doors grumbling in less than a second into so much dust.</p><p>“I’ll take care of the cunt and his admirer if she’s still helping him, you get the collateral damage out of this hellhole and triage them if you can control yourself around all the blood.”</p><p>“I will do what I must to serve the Master’s will.”</p><p>“Alrighty then.”</p><p>Whistling jauntily, no sign of his livid temper showing for even a second as soon as the doors were down, Harry strode forward over the pile of dust and into the gloom of the open chapel.</p><p>…</p><p>“Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel,” Harry tsked, his bootsteps on the dirty wooden floors sounding like gunshots as he stepped hard with each pace, a tossed up lighting spell filling the broken chandelier fixtures - three of them in total spaced over the length of the chapel and more than enough to light up the entire room - with a soft golden glow.  “You’ve been <em> quite </em> the naughty boy.”  He came to a stop, eyes dead-ahead and fixed on mottled grey-green that had more than a <em> hint </em> of madness steeping in them.  “Now <em> what </em> is to be done about that, hm?”</p><p>It was one hell of a performance, and entirely the work of a buttload of training and an unholy amount of Occlumency to lock down his emotions.</p><p>He’d paced up the center of the broken pews to the dais/altar space as if he was blind to what was around him and hanging on every wall.</p><p>He had to give the insane fucking bastard credit: he’d been a busy little bee while Harry had been otherwise occupied with <em> finding him </em> or keeping up his position in Jean-Claude’s court or dealing with meeting the Rodere.</p><p>Harry had already assumed as soon as Storr showed him the picture that Gabriel had been behind the eviscerated male wolf who’d been Team Raina at the Lupanar.</p><p>With Raina missing and the supernatural gossip tree moving with the speed of lightning, it wasn’t a hard logical leap to make that Gabriel assumed the pack had killed her before she could skip town.</p><p>Why he thought her <em> supporters </em> were the ones to blame...well that one had him at a loss unless they were just the only members of the pack he’d managed to get his claws on.  What with their biggest supporter removed.  Violently.  By Harry tearing her fucking head off.</p><p>He didn’t know <em> what </em> sequence of events had led to Gabriel sheltering in a condemned church <em> or </em> stringing up both his own submissive pard members as well as the wolves he could get his claws on and he probably would never know.</p><p>Harry <em> did </em> however foresee Ms. Estelle being put out and Storr throwing a fit over suspects disappearing and the pack not getting back their own pound of flesh.</p><p>Neither of which were his problems (thank Merlin) except for the fact that the wolves were <em> literally nailed </em> with silver-coated iron railroad spikes - from what he could see of them and the small pile that Gabriel had left out on the top of the dais - in an X-form to the walls of the chapel.  <em> That </em> very much was a fucking problem especially since he was seeing what Damian had already warned him of: each an every one of the dozen wolves was dead.  He imagined that the only reason the police had found that one wolf’s body - since Harry was also seeing causes of death covering everything from evisceration to slit throats to more wolves with hearts torn out - was that Gabriel had overshot himself by trying to take on what had felt like a powerful alpha the one time Harry had been around the now-dead wolf.</p><p>He was trying not to <em> think </em> about that fact that he couldn’t see the missing hearts or that Gabriel had blood dried around his mouth as well as on his neck, chest, and hands and what all <em> that </em> implied about the fate of the missing hearts.</p><p>Honestly, that shifters in this universe were at times given to <em> eating their dead </em> or their <em> enemies </em> was a fact that he tried not to think about full-stop, with mixed results.</p><p>The pard - except for a female that looked just as unhinged but with a hefty helping of <em> adoring </em> when looking at Gabriel with dark hair and eyes matched to tanned skin who he would give decent odds on being Elizabeth, the reason that a psycho like Gabriel was a shifter <em> to begin with </em> - were also strung up but rather than staked to the walls were cuffed with silver and chained.</p><p>Most of them had their arms strung up over their heads with their wrists cuffed close and their feet shackled to the floor, except for a pair on the dais.</p><p><em> Jean-Claude’s </em> pair: Gregory and Nathaniel, each strapped down to a St. Andrew’s cross in another version of an X-formation, and held tight with more silver at wrist, ankle, and neck.</p><p>Gregory’s genitals were a mess (and Harry <em> really </em> didn’t need to know that shifter healing would handle having one’s cock and balls almost torn <em> clean off, </em> thanks) and there was more blood and what he was going to assume was semen given the color streaking his thighs, abdomen, and the floor beneath his ass.  There were streaks on his chest from being clawed, and bite marks, but it was easy to see given the lack of even <em> more </em> blood on the floor at Gregory’s feet that most of the damage had been done in the rape and near-miss castration.  Horrifying as it was: Gregory was <em> fine</em>, breathing easily but whimpering in on going pain from the silver, compared to Nathaniel.</p><p>Nathaniel.  Sweet, shy, obedient and utterly submissive Nathaniel from everything Harry had seen and heard, was a pull of his innards from being eviscerated.  His stomach and abdomen an open gape of gore, as if Gabriel or his hellish handmaiden had been <em> digging </em> inside of him.  More blood than Gregory pooled grotesquely on the floor and as limp as Nathaniel was in his restraints and as pale as his face and naked body was, Harry didn’t know if it was possible even with his magic for him to be saved as it was clear Gabriel had intended to kill him or gotten so enraged and unhinged that he’d torn Nathaniel apart above and far beyond what even a shifter could heal alone.</p><p>The three other wereleopards were all speckled with blood, one who was possibly the prettiest woman Harry had ever seen under the pain and fear had semen smeared on her inner thighs.</p><p>Oh yes, Gabriel had been <em> quite </em> the busy little bee.</p><p>Harry took this all in as he walked steadily up to the dais, and found himself glad that Jean-Claude had sent him with one of the most disciplined guards he had to boast.</p><p>Otherwise, Harry might not be able to vouch for the chances of the guard returning, as anyone <em> not </em> as immediately obedient as he’d seen Damian act at the court might end up in the crossfire.</p><p>And while Harry would have been sorry for it, he couldn’t say that the vampire wouldn’t have been warned.</p><p>Because the moment Harry saw Nathaniel hanging there on death’s door, a side of him that he’d been keeping careful hold on and under wraps came <em> roaring </em> to life as his instincts hooked vicious claws into his control and rattled him for all they were worth all the while fighting between <em> comfort/heal/fix/make-better </em> and <em> tear/revenge/rend/destroy-trespasser. </em></p><p>It didn’t help him hold onto his raging instincts that Gabriel was <em> painted </em> in blood, his claws - apparently being a strong enough alpha to partially manifest the shift instead of falling into the full-shift - bared and hands tensed ready to rip and tear.</p><p>Gabriel bared his - yep, those were actual fangs that were shifting into place as his eyes went feline-hazel - fangs and hissed at him, voice coming out guttural from temper and the partial shift.</p><p>“Who the fuck are you?”</p><p>“Me?”  Harry arched a brow as in a single moment he <em> stopped </em> holding onto his instincts and let them free, tapping his own claws together as his upper and lower canines lengthened into fangs of his own.  In dim lighting no one would even notice the scales rippling over his bared skin, the gunmetal-grey-black blending far too well with the shadows.  “I’m Jean-Claude’s human servant, and <em> you </em> princess are in breach of contract.”  His wicked grin was all fangs as the ripple of scales finished over his eyes, covering his entire body in dragonhide.  “Which means <em> your </em> murderous raping rampaging ass is <em> mine!” </em>  He roared spreading his arms in clear challenge, his vocal cords summoning a sound never meant to be made by a human voice.</p><p>But in that moment he wasn’t a human at all.</p><p>He was a dragon.</p><p>And <em> dragons </em> didn’t tend to like it when people fucked with what was <em> theirs. </em></p><p>…</p><p>“What, what is he?”  One of the weakened females - the one that neither appeared nor smelled of rape though Damian imagined under such an Alpha that such things were not foreign to her - asked as Damian ignored the burn and singe of the silver as he used brute strength to break the leopards free one after another.</p><p>The ones not on the dais anyway.</p><p>Until his Master’s human - or whatever he was, because if that appearance, that <em> shift </em> was magic it was like nothing he’d ever seen in a thousand years of existence - moved the fight out of the way, they were far too close to the pair for Damian to have the time he’d need to free them without Gabriel attacking him.</p><p>As it was, if it weren’t for the - the scales looked like a type of reptile to him but the claws and fangs were unlike any snake shifter he’d seen before - <em> Harry </em> being such a massive threat and right in his face, Damian doubted that Gabriel would’ve leaped for the human and not the vampire in his rage.</p><p>Most would assume that the vampire was the bigger threat after all.</p><p>But in that form, Damian wasn’t sure if that was accurate as Harry suddenly <em> smelled </em> more like a shifter than he did a magical human, so perhaps it was something to do with that which had the wereleopard prioritizing taking out Harry over Damian.</p><p>“The human servant of the Master of the City.”  Damian answered stoically, scanning all of the freed wereleopards as he laid them out one next to the other on the green of the cemetery attached to the church lawn.  “Now that the silver if off, you all should heal unless you have injuries I cannot see.”</p><p>“We’ll be fine,” the male stated emphatically, even weakened moving to put himself between Damian and the females.  He was rather striking looking, even with his fixed fangs that likely came from being forced to spend too long in his leopard form.  “It’s Nathaniel that’s fucked.”</p><p>Unfortunately, from what Damian had seen, that was most likely true.</p><p>Shrugging out of his frock coat - one of Jean-Claude’s requirements for the “uniform” of his vampire guards - he handed it over to the female who’d been raped, allowing her to curl up and hide herself within it, then did the same with the frilly white courtier’s shirt that was likewise part of his enforced attire, handing it off to the blonde female with the questions.</p><p>“Stay here.”  He ordered them.  “He’ll want to see to you,” if Damian knew anything about his Master’s human at all.  “When he’s finished with your Alpha.”</p><p>“He’s going to kill him, isn’t he?”</p><p>Damian wished he could be surprised at the fear-plagued eagerness that riddled the question from the male, but he’d seen far too many abuses over the years for it to be so.</p><p>“I imagine that by the time <em> death </em> becomes an option for your Alpha, he will be most eager to greet it.”  Damian told them with all the emotion of a rock.  “Neither the Master of the City nor his servant approve of abuses of power.  Your Alpha, unless I am <em> vastly </em> mistaken, it about to become a fresh reminder of such.”</p><p>“And Nathaniel?”  The quiet female asked, peeking up from huddling in the frock coat as her Pard mates surrounded and shielded her.  “Will he help Nathaniel?”</p><p>“If he can be helped, then I imagine so.”</p><p>…</p><p>Gabriel would never admit - would never live long enough <em> to </em> admit - that he went from <em> gonna fuck him up then fuck him </em> to <em> what the literal FUCK?! </em> In less than a minute.  In about the amount of time it took him to tag the claws and fangs - that were longer and thicker than his own - as a matter of fact.</p><p>The <em> fucking scales </em> that his claws just <em> slid </em> off of certainly didn’t help.</p><p>Anymore than Elizabeth jumping for the pretty little son of a bitch’s back to help him - the way she’d helped him bring down so many others before - in her full shift only to be <em> flung </em> away in a single swipe of one of those deceptively lean arms.</p><p>Gabriel, may have, <em> possibly </em> miscalculated how Jean-Claude was going to react to Gabriel going rogue.</p><p>He was new to power, he’d thought.</p><p>Wouldn’t be able to <em> risk </em> taking on one of the shifter groups in the city, not with the fear Gabriel caused in half of all the rest just by <em> breathing </em> in their general vicinity.</p><p>Gabriel, alpha of the Blood Drinker’s clan, was <em> wrong. </em></p><p>…</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>New French used in this chapter:</p><p>chat répulsif - repellent cat<br/>Mon cher - my dear</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*Glances up at Tags*  Yeah.  This one is pretty violent as well, at least in the beginning.  But after this we have aftermath and recovery chapters (about five or so, depending on how everything shakes out) and then we're off to the next story in the series :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Honor Bound</b> </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Chapter Ten: All that Glitters</b>
</p><p>Harry tossed the wereleopard female off his back with a grunt, the impact winding him but her claws useless against dragonhide, even if he was in a partial shift and not his full animagus form of a young adult Hungarian Horntail.</p><p>Which he couldn’t <em> exactly </em> take at the moment unless he wanted to flatten the run-down church he was fighting a pair of fucked up shifters as well as everyone still inside it.  Which wouldn’t be a <em> bad </em> idea by any measure if it weren’t for the leopards still restrained that would be caught in the backlash.  And as wounded as both Gregory and Nathaniel were before Harry even knew they were missing, he doubted they’d just shake a building being dropped on them off like his opponents might.</p><p>“You know, I <em> try </em> to keep myself in check.”  Harry said idly, as he swung out of the way of a swipe of Gabriel’s claws, lashing out with a steel-toed boot to the leopard’s near leg, throwing the shifter off balance if only for a moment.  “My temper.  My power.  My rage.  Try to keep myself from becoming the worst version of myself but then it seems every <em> fucking time </em> I turn around,” he danced out of the way of another set of swipes and lunges, grabbing the female in midair and this time launching her at her lover, the pair falling in a tangle if only for a few moments.  “I run into assholes like <em> you </em> that seem almost <em> designed </em> to test my resolve.  And with someone I actually <em> give a shit about </em> two inches from dying, my resolve is, unfortunately for you two, not <em> nearly </em> as strong as my wrath.”</p><p>Reaching the end of his patience for doling out pain and frustration to the murderous rapists and torturers and seeing that Damian had managed to rescue the rest of the pard including Nathaniel while the two vicious cunts were tangled up with each other, Harry rocked his head from one side then the other.  A soft <em> crack-crack-crack </em> accompanied the movement as he closed his eyes a moment then when they snapped back open his humanity was <em> gone. </em>  Eyes slitted like his dragon form if the same vivid green of the Killing Curse replaced his often remarked-upon emerald orbs, and his mouth smiled far too widely for a human face, the edges of his mouth spreading farther and farther apart as the rest of him twisted and morphed in a single smooth movement from human to dragon.</p><p>And just as promised, as soon as he took his full form his back brushed the ceiling and threatened to bring it down while only his exceptional control kept his massive wingspan from snapping wide and taking out the church's side walls.</p><p>Paralyzed at the sight of a creature of myth and legend long thought hunted to extinction, Gabriel and Elizabeth froze in mid-motion as they rose to launch another attack.</p><p>Harry snorted, lifting his reptilian lips to show off graphite-grey teeth from heavy metal deposits comprising his hollow bones (more like a bird than a reptile, funnily enough) in this form, and <em> rumbled </em> a growl that shook the building around them and set off car alarms in a two block radius.</p><p>The spikes on his wings lashed out when that was all the signal the pair needed to attempt to bolt, choosing to risk the windows rather than go around them.</p><p>That choice was uncategorically a mistake nearly on par with harming one of Harry’s own to begin with.</p><p>His right foremost wing spike - as he didn’t have forelegs in this form, the Hungarian Horntail by some definitions a wyvern with two clawed wings and two legs rather than two wings and four legs like many depictions of dragons - gored Elizabeth through her chest, the female wereleopard having missed a spike through the eye via a sudden lift of her head at seeing the danger combined with an attempt to dodge but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the blow altogether.</p><p>Indeed, despite Harry’s massive size in this form, there weren’t many who <em> could </em> dodge one of his strikes and all of them that he’s met thus far have been vampires even if none of them were <em> aware </em> of the reason behind Harry paying such close attention to the speed of their attacks during sparring and training.</p><p>A fact to which Gabriel could attest as while Elizabeth had darted towards Harry and to the left, he’d gone back away and to the right in an attempt to divide his focus.</p><p>Except he’d forgotten - or perhaps never considered - that Harry had a <em> tail. </em></p><p>Not fully prehensile, Harry’s dragon form still had an articulated tail that he could use as a weapon with precision thanks to plenty of practice in the Grimmauld Place ballroom.</p><p>Precise enough to pin down a partially-shifted alpha wereleopard and hold him even when the bastard shifted into his pony-sized leopard form that was at least a foot taller at the shoulder than Elizabeth’s had been.</p><p>A slight <em> snap </em> of his wing freed him of the burden of her corpse, <em> good riddance to bad rubbish, </em> while a flick and a <em> snap </em> of his tail broke Gabriel’s spine at the mid-back using his appellation-gaining spikes, partially paralyzing him until his healing could rush to heal it - and it was the sort of injury that took <em> time </em> for even the heartiest of shifters to heal even under the best of circumstances - and leaving him temporarily helpless as the man was forced back by the pain into his human form.</p><p>Harry shifted back in turn, his far smoother and without the strange viscous liquid that accompanied the shift for weres in this world - which he found in turns fascinating and <em> so fucking gross - </em>then paced over to where the other half of St. Louis’s bogeymen laid whimpering in his own filth, having lost control of his bladder and bowels with the rest of his lower body.</p><p>Crouching over the once-ferocious shifter, Harry smirked wickedly down at the mess of a man.</p><p>He didn’t bother bandying any more words with the cretin, or wasting time gloating over his victory.</p><p>He’d like to visit a more painful end on the sadistic cunt, but he heard the inevitable <em> tick tick tick </em>of Nathaniel’s life winding down in the back of his mind with every moment he wasted on the wereleopard’s torturers.</p><p>Taking his dagger from his boot, Harry grabbed Gabriel by the back of his blood-streaked black hair, tilted his head back, and thrust his blade from the bottom of his head into the base of his brainstem, twisting it and turning it side-to-side for good measure, then ripped it back out.</p><p>Another thrust between the fourth and fifth ribs - for insurance - then Harry wiped the bloody blade on his purple shirt sleeve rather than risk contaminating it further with whatever combination of filth that coated the asshole’s leather trousers.</p><p>Walking out of the church, he tossed a firebomb spell behind him and slapped up a fire-containment and notice-me-not ward - both on a timer - on the building.</p><p>He’d give Jean-Claude descriptions of the wolves to pass to the Pack, and confirm Elizabeth and Gabriel’s deaths.</p><p>The wolves would have to be satisfied with that much and if they weren’t he really didn’t give a fuck with how high many of them were on his shit list.</p><p>Storr and RPIT would just have to keep guessing about what happened to Raina’s lover and main accomplice.</p><p>He had more important things to worry about.</p><p>Another notice-me-not was tossed up over the group of leopards and a single vampire who was keeping watch over them, even as the semi-unharmed trio fussed and fretted over the pair he’d come looking for in the first place, Nathaniel looking even worse for having been freed and moved than he had strapped to one of Gabriel’s contraptions.</p><p>“He’s dying.”  The petite blonde said, not a hint of doubt in her voice as she held the shirt that the vampire had given her to cover up to Nathaniel’s abdomen, trying to at least slow the bleeding.  She stared up at Harry with diamond-hard blue eyes.  “Unless you can get someone here who can call flesh,” now there was something Harry had never heard of before, so not helpful at the moment though he would certainly be asking questions later.  “Can call out his leopard to heal him, or pull a miracle out of your ass, he’s going to die.”</p><p>“Move.”  Harry told her, nudging her away firmly but gently until she wasn’t touching Nathaniel any longer as he flicked his wrist and held out his wand, moving through the motions and incantations of a diagnostic spell with ease.  “What about Gregory?”  He asked even as his eyes ate up the information the spell provided.</p><p>“Weak,” Damian reported.  “But he’ll live.  The miss’s report is accurate, I can hear your leopard’s heart slowing with every beat.”</p><p>Because not one of them were under any illusions regarding what Harry’s main objective here had been nor where his affections rested even if they couldn’t <em> smell </em> it all over the wizard when he looked at Nathaniel.</p><p><em> Fuck. </em>  Harry stared at the spell, even as he summoned potions from the supply he kept on himself at all times, albeit hidden away in expanded pockets.</p><p>“Here,” he handed three off to the little blonde for Gregory.  “Two blood replenishers and a Pepper-Up for energy.  They’ll help him along.”</p><p>“Cherry, Zane, Vivian.”  She named them quickly as she took the potions she’d been hearing about from other shifters.  Mainly because of how quickly they’d helped heal Mr. Black who was back to making his rounds in more ways than one when all accounts said he <em> should have </em> died.  “What about Nathaniel?”  Cherry asked, voice wavering even as she passed the glass vials over to Zane and Vivian who were hovering over Gregory.</p><p><em> Yeah, what about Nathaniel? </em>  Harry thought to himself helplessly.  He couldn’t just give him potions or spell them straight into his stomach.  With as weak as he was and the severity of his injuries, the attempted cure might be worse for him than the slow descent.</p><p>Facts were facts: Gabriel and Elizabeth had known what they were about and done <em> too good </em> of a job tearing his kitten apart.  Normally a shifter’s body had no problem putting itself back together.  But with the extent of the wounds...even the minor help that Harry could give in blood replenishers and energy supplements would be far too much of a strain on his overtaxed system.</p><p>No, no, that wouldn’t help at all.</p><p>What he <em> needed</em>, as he knelt there, one hand resting on Nathaniel’s unblemished face, thumb brushing gently over his cheek, was a way to amplify Nathaniel’s natural healing ability.</p><p>A way to make it stronger to improve…</p><p>He glanced up at Damian.</p><p>
  <em> Huh. </em>
</p><p>That just might work.</p><p>“Do you have an animal to call, Damian?”  Harry asked, the wereleopards swinging their heads around to look between the statuesque vampire who hadn’t moved even a millimeter other than speaking to Harry since Cherry had taken over triaging and tending to her Pard and Harry himself.  Harry couldn’t blame them.  It was one hell of a question out of left field.</p><p>But then, they wouldn’t know, would they?</p><p>They’ve never been <em> bound </em> to a vampire, they didn’t know what the sharing of energies <em> did </em>whether it was with a shifter or a magical human or even a vanilla human.</p><p><em> Harry </em> on the other hand, knew all too well both the benefits and the negatives of the bond.</p><p>And with Nathaniel bleeding out a little bit more moment by moment, it was a risk that he was <em> more </em> than willing to take to save his life, even as he felt a moment’s hesitation from Jean-Claude through their mental link before his lover sent him a wave of tentative approval.</p><p>“No,” Damian answered slowly, brow furrowing in puzzlement.  “I’m not a master.”</p><p>Which, generally speaking, was one of the requirements for gaining metaphysical control over a species to the point of having an animal to call.</p><p>No one knew what caused the phenomenon, or how an animal to call was determined by whatever metaphysical trigger controls it, but it was common knowledge that having an animal to call - whether the vampire ever acted on the ability or not - was one of the markers of a master vampire.</p><p>“My specialty is bonds.”  Harry rushed to explain, pressing his off hand over Nathaniel’s heart and starting to feed him energy in an attempt to stabilize him as much as possible.  “I can bond Nathaniel to you, which will allow you to send him energy and supercharge his healing.  As a result, he’ll be your bonded animal to call, even if you never gain control over leopards as a whole.”</p><p>“You <em> can’t</em>!”  Zane protested, the blond leopard hissing at Harry in protest.  “You can’t make that choice for him!”</p><p>“I absolutely <em> can.” </em>   Harry retorted, narrowing his eyes in warning at the leopard with a rumble in his chest that had the slight submissive backpedaling and putting the downed form of Gregory between them once more.  “Unless I’ve missed something in the last month, when a leader of a shifter group is killed, whoever kills them so long as it’s a valid fight, gains control of the group.  I may not be a <em> were </em> but I’m sure as <em> fuck </em> a shifter if not the kind you’re used to dealing with.  And just like if the Ulfric had offered one of his wolves to Jean-Claude they wouldn’t have refused the <em> honor </em> of being bonded to the Master of the City, I’m certain that Nathaniel wouldn’t refuse being bonded to one of Jean-Claude’s trusted guards if his alpha offers him <em> and </em> it was to save his life.”</p><p>“<em>Leopard lionne,” </em> Zane declares with a wrinkle of his nose.  “An alpha and leader who actively protects the Pard, but not one that has <em> yet </em> proven themselves to be worthy of being Nimir,” Zane’s gaze turned calculating and his nostrils flared, the seemingly self-appointed leader of the little group of submissive leopards sharing a look with Vivian and Cherry before making his verdict.  “Nimir-<em>Ravi. </em>  Sovereign of the Blood Drinker’s Pard.”</p><p><em> Snap. </em>  Harry and the leopards alike shivered as bonds - weak as they were at the moment, more hints of what they could be than anything of actual strength - already primed by Harry’s kill of Gabriel, locked into place.  They’d have to work to strengthen them, Harry would have to prove himself as the protector he’s set himself up as.  But they were there nonetheless.</p><p>Harry could only hope that even on death’s door that the link as nascent as it currently was would help Nathaniel hold on for that little bit longer.</p><p>“Fair enough,” Harry decided, blinking as he pushed back the magical rush of the new bonds and filed away the strange title - the gender neutral one which, hello, he’s a male he’s not sure why the pushy blond hit him with that instead of Nimir-Raj as his potential future title if he earned it.  “Nathaniel can’t consent.  He’s going to die.  As his <em> leopard lionne </em> it falls to me to make any decisions about interventions to save his life and <em> I say </em> that if Damian is willing, I’ll make the attempt to bond them so he can lend his strength to Nathaniel.”</p><p>“This would please you?”  Damian asked bluntly.  “Entrusting me with one of your leopards?”</p><p>“To save his life, yes.”</p><p>“Then I consent, to save his life and please one of the Masters of the City.”  Damian knelt smoothly with the unnatural grace of his kind combined with the ease of a warrior with a thousand years of training under his belt.  “What would you have me do?”</p><p>…</p><p>Harry almost protested Damian’s agreement on the basis that the vampire was doing it <em> for him </em> - as well as giving him the same rank as Jean-Claude, which was just <em> weird </em> on so many levels but especially coming from an ancient vampire - but Nathaniel in that moment whimpered weakly and that moment of conflict was washed away as if it had never been.</p><p>Looking straight ahead into Damian’s jade green eyes, Harry apologized for what he was about to do:</p><p>“Sorry, this is probably not going to feel great without Jean-Claude’s <em> ardeur </em> to smooth the way and a third party forcing it.  There’s a process to this, steps and formal rituals.  <em> Normally, </em> but,” he shrugged then snapped out with a slash of his wand, Damian gasping at the feeling of someone <em> grabbing </em> his power and yanking from his center.  “We don’t have time for that and Nathaniel’s not in any state for it.”</p><p>Eyes glowing a vivid poisonous green - though he didn’t know it, the aware and watchful leopards most <em> certainly </em> did - Harry manipulated Damian’s power, forming it into the braided steel cable that ran from his own magical core to Jean-Claude’s own power center.  Lifting his hand that had been resting on Nathaniel and gifting him with the barest trickle of power, Harry drew up the wereleopard’s power with it and finding it just as sweet - if surprisingly robust considering his state - and light with a hidden if manageable darkness as the submissive himself.  His wand moved in a hypnotic dance, power rising and swirling around the three of them as even the leopards were able to see a spark of here or there as Harry focused on something beyond any of their abilities to perceive.</p><p>He didn’t falter for a moment, even when he felt others arrive, not until the braided steel cable was as strong and unbreakable while still having <em> give </em> and malleability as it would be <em> their </em> bond, not his own to determine for them, sweat dripping from his face and dampening his shirt as he worked and braided and wove and toiled for a time that was endless and ended all too soon at the same time.</p><p>Buckling forward, Harry shook his head as hands caught him from behind and steadied him, Harry knowing that cool grasp that was all at once gentle and as unbreakable as steel anywhere.</p><p>“What a marvel you are, <em> mon tresor.” </em>  Jean-Claude told him with admiration clear in his voice as he and his most trusted of his court moved now that Harry was freed from his trance to assist.  “I could know you for an eon and still be surprised, I believe.”</p><p>“I thought you were busy?”  He asked hoarsely, <em> feeling </em> the exhaustion of the night’s work as his waning rage and adrenaline left him hollowed out in their wake.  He turned his head as Jean-Claude shifted and lifted him smoothly into his arms, not hesitating even a moment despite the blood and gore of the night littering his clothes and skin.  Then he focused around the exhaustion.  “Did it work?”</p><p>“Only one meeting could not be delayed, <em> mon tresor, </em> the rest will <em> wait.</em>”  Jean-Claude turned, Harry winding his arms around his lover’s neck to steady himself only to smile at the sight of a rosy-cheeked Nathaniel - albeit still unconscious - cradled in Damian’s arms.  “As to the other, see for yourself: they do make <em> quite </em> the enchanting matched set.”</p><p>“What are we to do with the wereleopards, Master Jean-Claude?”  Aubrey asked as he picked up Gregory with great care for his wounded state, the others all being scooped up by Perrin, Rosa, and to Harry’s interest Sirius’s friend Dave which simply reinforced Harry’s burgeoning idea that the former cop was a master in the making even if he was nowhere near old enough to gain the necessary power as yet.</p><p>It certainly hadn’t stopped him from taking a human servant, which was one of those “master-only” things that the vampire lore likes to make a fuss over, and something that everyone was always circumspect about.</p><p>If Harry had to guess, he’d say his godfather helped that along given how young of a vampire Dave was and how long Sirius had been in the city.</p><p>Not that anyone knew Harry suspected as much, he <em> did </em> understand the concept of tact even if it didn’t seem like it at times, and it wasn’t like he was the <em> only </em> wizard in the world with a grasp of basic binding concepts.</p><p>On the contrary, considering that the oldest families used binding magics as a matter of tradition for marriage and assigning godparents, Harry would’ve been <em> more </em> surprised if Sirius wasn’t capable of supplying a bit of a power boost to facilitate a vampire/human-servant bond.</p><p>Especially since the asshole had been right when he’d called it a magical marriage in all but name and an exchange of tokens.</p><p>“They’re coming with me to my home.”  Harry said after a glance at his other half.  “I killed Gabriel without using a single spell,” which was true as strictly speaking the animagus transformation wasn’t anything so simple as a <em> spell. </em>  “The Pard is mine.”</p><p>“He’s telling the truth.”  Zane spoke up once more as the spokesman for the rest of the leopards when the vampires - except the one who’d been willing to take on Nathaniel and the Master of the City - traded confused glances.  “He is ours and we are his until his death or another Alpha arises to successfully challenge him.”</p><p>“The <em> chaton </em> and <em> mon tresor </em> are correct.”  Jean-Claude’s voice was mild - too mild in fact as his subordinates all stiffened and straightened their shoulders except for Damian who was treating the kitten like the most fragile of glass ornaments - and as such was a warning against even implied <em> doubt </em> when it came to his Harry’s word.  “It has been a busy night for all involved.  Let us adjourn to <em> mon tresor’s </em> home.”</p><p>“Yes, Master Jean-Claude.”</p><p>“Yes, Master.”</p><p>…</p><p>With vampires providing transport via Vampire Air - which Harry <em> still </em> loved and was kinda upset that he and Jean-Claude hadn’t had time to fly again yet since the first time his lover took him up in the air, and no an emergency rescue <em> does not </em> count - they were landing outside Harry’s gate in a matter of moments, with Harry having to grant them all temporary passage except for Jean-Claude.</p><p>Though it seemed that the Master of the City had been busier than he’d made it sound, as also waiting at the gates was a pair of cars: one containing Rafael and Dr. Lillian and the other with Sirius and Luthor, Dave’s human servant.</p><p>Call him paranoid, but keyed into permissions in the wards or not, as it stood only Sirius, Jean-Claude, and Rafael had enough leeway to enter his property without him physically present and even they didn’t have the power to bring others in with them.</p><p>“See you inside.”  Harry commented with a little wave of his hand as the gate swung open and the vampires sped up to his door with the cars following behind and pulling in a few moments later.</p><p>Jean-Claude set him down in the foyer, one hand keeping him steady on his hip and proving that he had permission to enter his servant’s home - likely a minor detail that was going to end up making the rounds of supernatural gossip among everything else that went down that night - as Harry <em> carefully </em> worded his invitations to the vampires.</p><p>“Damian, please come in.  Perrin, Rosa, Aubrey and Dave, you are welcome <em> this night</em>.”</p><p>“Showing some caution at last, pup?”  Sirius asked cynically complete with eye roll as he and the others followed the vampires and their passengers into the house.</p><p>“More for their sake than my own.”  Harry smirked, arching a questioning brow at his godfather over <em> tone. </em>  “Since I’m not writing them into the wards and I wouldn’t want my protections to smack them down like a bug zapper if they tried to just fly onto the porch or something.”</p><p>“Enough dawdling.”  Lillian barked, facing a wobbly Harry with her hands on her hips.  “Where am I setting up?”</p><p>Harry led the way, opening the door to the basement.  “Downstairs.  I’ve, ah, made some improvements while Sirius was still housebound.”</p><p>Humming skeptically under her breath, Lillian strode down the stairs, the vampires with their wereleopard charges all following like so much ducklings at a dual nod from Jean-Claude and Harry, while Luthor traded a look with Dave and Sirius before ducking back into the kitchen, leaving the rest to hover in the living room just beyond the stairs and talk, despite the fact that the mention of the basement had sparked the others’ curiosity.</p><p>Harry hadn’t exactly been <em> forthcoming </em> about some of his projects around his home, though they all knew he’d been up to <em> something </em> with as much time he spent on it and the number of instances where he’d mentioned doing work around the place of one kind or another.</p><p>And yet from the outside it mostly appeared - Rafael’s work on the landscape notwithstanding - that everything was exactly the same.</p><p>Sirius in particular felt like kicking himself.</p><p>Grimmauld Place had had not one but <em> two </em> below ground levels: the kitchen level and then the actual basement with the potion lab and ritual room and ingredient storage.</p><p>After spending years living there, <em> of fucking course </em> Harry was going to take one look at a finished basement that was nothing but a blank slate and roll up his sleeves.</p><p>Now if only Harry had been as proactive at replicating <em> other </em> components of their former world, Sirius wouldn’t be chomping at the bit to tan his hide.</p><p>It would have to wait, however.</p><p>They <em> would </em> be having a reckoning after this latest stunt of Harry’s - taking off with almost <em> no </em> backup, not even warning anyone of where he was going other than tracking that twatwaffle Gabriel (who was fucking dangerous even if Harry didn’t realize it,) and leaving Jean-Claude to do the <em> adult </em> portion of the evening - oh yes, they were going to have a <em> talk. </em></p><p>First things first, as Sirius wasn’t completely heartless or a fucking idiot, was taking care of the result of Harry’s latest round of his saving people thing.</p><p>And Merlin-bless Hermione for putting that damned fucking inherent <em> nobility </em> that Potter men seemed to have in spades into words because while he had no problem telling Prongs that he was being a fucking reckless cunt, Harry was his <em> kid </em> or the closest thing he had to it and over his dead fucking <em> body </em> was he going to talk to his son that way after growing up with an abusive twat like Walburga.</p><p>Harry - wavering on his feet and from what Sirius could tell only staying upright from Jean-Claude physically (and most likely magically) propping him up - quickly filled in both Rafael and Sirius on the salient details of his latest stunt:</p>
<ol>
<li>He’d tracked down Gabriel to a condemned church.</li>
<li>Gabriel had apparently tracked and killed a dozen members of the Pack.</li>
<li>By the time Harry arrived Gregory was severely injured and Nathaniel was on death’s door.</li>
<li>Harry fought with Gabriel and a female member of the Pard.</li>
<li>While Harry was distracting them, Damian rescued the remaining wereleopards.</li>
<li>Harry then killed both Gabriel and his helper - or the helper and Gabriel, the timing on that was a bit shaky from what Sirius understood of Harry’s concise but rambling recitation.</li>
<li>With Gabriel dead, Harry set to helping the survivors leading to him taking control of the Pard as Alpha - which <em>what? -</em> in order to have the authority to bond Nathnaiel to Damian as his animal to call and save his life.</li>
</ol><p>Again: <em> what? </em></p><p>Sirius held in a groan, rubbing one hand over his face in aggravation.</p><p>His kid had been alone - he’d seen how Damian was about orders, he was <em> not </em> any sort of check on Harry’s behavior, plans, or power - for less than an <em> hour </em> and managed to adopt a set of <em> severely fucking damaged </em>wereleopards (in more ways than one at that), increase his status - and Sirius now was going to have to insist on knowing what his animagus form was since it was apparently capable of taking down one of the most dangerous alphas in the city - took total control over one of the four shifter groups in the city, and performed a feat of magic that even Sirius wouldn’t have been willing to risk without any preparation or warning.</p><p><em> Seriously, he needed to put a fucking tracker on his kid, Harry was going to make him go prematurely grey at this point and Sirius </em> was not <em> ready to enter his silver fox years yet. </em></p><p>At least from the <em> looks </em> that the pup was fielding from his lovers, Sirius wasn’t alone in his exasperation at his full-speed-ahead school of decision making when he was in the moment.</p><p>He did <em> not </em> understand how someone who could lay out a several year plan including seclusion to free himself from the wizarding world and track down Sirius could <em> also </em> be the same person who once he built up a head of steam just kept pushing ahead until he ran face-first into magical exhaustion but he felt no shame at blaming James and Lily for this bullshit.</p><p>Circe-damn them, he was too pretty to stress out over their bratling’s inherited demonic traits.</p><p>The loveable assholes, managing to torment him even beyond the grave.</p><p>From the basement appeared the vampires, all of them but Damian it seemed banished from taking care of the wereleopards even as Luthor darted down the stairs with arms full of basins, washcloths, blankets, cups, and even a carafe of juice.</p><p>At least <em> someone </em> had their wits about them because Sirius didn’t even know where to <em> start </em> recovering from this clusterfuck, other than blistering Harry’s ears once he wasn’t in imminent danger of falling flat on his face.</p><p>“You’ll need to be with them.”  Rafael told him point-blank, the Rom knowing better than anyone else in the house presently how to take care of wounded shifters under his care.  No matter how new the bonds were, Rafael could <em> sense </em> it in a way that only other shifters and particularly astute vampires managed that Harry hadn’t lied for even a moment about his status among the Pard.  How he’d <em> managed </em> it was a different matter that Rafael wanted a whole lot more details on, but he really was the head of the Blood Drinker’s Pard now and <em> that </em> was going to be a headache and a half to sort out from Harry’s different duties and connections alone, let alone the issues that the Pard brought with them.  “They’ll rest better and more comfortably as well as heal faster with their Alpha with them.”</p><p>Everyone in the house heard that emphasis on the Alpha, since even the weakest among them couldn’t have missed it with their sense of hearing.</p><p>All except Sirius, but even he tended to lean into his animagus form’s abilities in his human state more than anyone even in the wizarding world would ever suspect.</p><p>“Your strength is their strength now.”  Rafael continued, the same as he would any young leader who came into their power with only the barest - and in Harry’s case possibly even an utter lack - of information about the actual mechanics of leading shifters beyond the “fight, kill, claim” portion of it that tended to be all outsiders knew of the process if they were aware of it at all.  Harry was better than most at picking up cues and adapting to shifter instincts when he was around them, but even he wasn’t a shifter who’d been bitten and then had to rise through the ranks.  There was <em> so fucking much </em> that his boyfriend didn’t know about his new rank, and over Rafael’s - and unless he’d recently been lobotomized, Jean-Claude would be right there with him - dead body would he let Harry drown trying to figure it out.  “Your power their power.  An Alpha - when they’re not corrupt pieces of shit - is both the sword and shield for their people.  All comers have to go through <em> you </em> know to get to them - and if they don’t then it will be <em> your </em> duty to avenge them.”</p><p>“I hear you, Rafa.”  Harry sighed, scrubbing his hands through his hair.  “But I couldn’t leave that piece of shit alive.  Not knowing now what he did to them and anyone else he could get his claws in.  It’s not in my nature to look away.”</p><p>“You’ve certainly got your Mum’s good heart, Harry-pup.”  Sirius sighed, feeling at least a bit of his frustration leak away and leaving resignation behind in its place.  “It’s going to kill you one day if you’re not careful.”</p><p>Rafael and Jean-Claude shared a look over Harry’s head, both silently resolved to ensure that such an event never came to pass.</p><p>“Congratulations, <em> mon cher,” </em> Harry tried to be upbeat but failed miserably in his weary state.  “You now have control of half the shifter groups in the city and an alliance with the others.”</p><p>“<em>Merci, mon trésor,” </em> Jean-Claude cracked a smile and leaned down to press a kiss to the corner of Harry’s drooping eyes.  “It is not the end result I expected of Gabriel breaking his alliance and contract with us, but I cannot say that it is an undesirable end either.”</p><p>Turning to his guards, Jean-Claude dismissed them including Perrin who was staring at the floor as if he could see right through it to where his kinsman was located below them.</p><p>As they left, he was certain he saw the Danish Viking cast a covert glance at Sirius, but put that aside for the moment lest his Harry catch hold of it.</p><p>His little monster’s decision to unapologetically meddle with his godfather’s love life was entertaining, especially as he seemed to gravitate towards the idea of setting him up with those on the, hmm, <em> sweeter </em>or gentle side of the spectrum and Perrin was anything but that for all the care he gave his kinsman.</p><p>Ah, <em> l’amour</em>.</p><p>In the end it makes fools of all.</p><p>However, with a handful of submissive and horrifically abused wereleopards to cluck over and protect, perhaps his little monster will leave his godfather to managing his own affairs of the heart - or the libido as the case most likely was with his friend Sirius.</p><p>For both their sakes he certainly hoped so, as the tension between them - a new component of their relationship since Sirius’s near-lethal injuries - needed to end before one or both of them exploded from the angst.</p><p>With the vampire audience gone, Luthor coming back upstairs to be whisked away with Dave, Harry leaned fully into Jean-Claude’s side with a sigh and allowed him to bear his weight as they went downstairs to assess matters there with full confidence that Lillian had things well in hand it was just...necessary or so said his instincts.</p><p>New instincts most likely combining with his natural worrywort sensibilities, but there was a definite <em> need </em> to be with his Pard pushing at Harry for all that he was certain if need be he’d manage to ignore it if he really wanted to.</p><p>There was one point that Sirius wanted clarified as he and Rafael played spotter in front and behind the pair.  Both of them trusted Jean-Claude with the pup, but they couldn’t help their instincts after such a night anymore than Harry could.</p><p>“How did you know the potions would help Kitty-Twin?”  Sirius asked, irreverently using his label for the identical strippers that were two of his favorites at Jean-Claude’s club.  Sadly with his senses he knew that while they both were flexible in the way that most shifters were, Kitty-Twin, as opposed to Wolfy-Twin who was ambivalent, preferred women though he’d still fuck a male or someone non-binary.  Which really just made Gabriel’s <em> preference </em> for Gregory ahead of all but Nathaniel in the Pard that much worse.</p><p>“Truth serum isn’t the only potion I’ve had the ability to test recently.”  Harry said cryptically, dancing around the fact that he both used Raina as a test dummy and killed her, mainly for the benefit of those who weren’t in the know.  Sirius and Rafael at least both assumed that when she turned up dead it was probably at Harry's hands, but he’d refused to confirm his involvement with her disappearance to anyone but Jean-Claude, even when he turned over his altered copies of her interrogation to Sirius and Ms. Estelle.  “Some need tweaking but blood replenishers and Pepper-Up are pretty much universal from what I can tell.”</p><p>Sirius pursed his lips and nodded after a moment’s thought about that, since Remus had had a similar problem with potions but had also been able to use those without issue.</p><p>Rafael pulled open the solid oak door at the base of the stairs - already an improvement over the simple hollow-core one that had been left alone during the renovations given the nice hardwood one that guarded the top of the stairs - and stepped out into a finished basement that was <em> nothing </em> like what he and his crew had left behind them when they’d completed their projects Harry had hired them for.</p><p>The door opened into a wide open area that was the short portion of what looked like a T junction, what would likely have been originally been purposed as a hallway widened into an actual landing area with a sitting area at one end with a couple of overstuffed chairs and a wrought iron floor lamp and a wall full of shelves and books on the other.  Set into the wall on either side of the entrance to the hallway was another set of hardwood doors with sconces in the oiled bronze that Harry preferred giving off a soft golden glow.  The hallways itself was well lit and long - longer than made sense from what Rafael remembered of the house’s footprint.</p><p>“Light-tight daytime resting suites with attached bathrooms.”  Harry pointed to the two doors.  “One is yours, <em> mon cher,” </em> Harry turned to look up at Jean-Claude.  “If you’d prefer that to me putting up shuttering wards on the house itself so you can share the master suite.”</p><p>It took Jean-Claude all of a split second to register that his little monster had been covertly planning to accommodate the needs of himself and his people within his home before he was making a decision.</p><p>“I trust your magic, <em> mon tresor.” </em>  He told him firmly.  “If you are ready for such a step then I would be most pleased to share your home when demands on our time to not require our presence elsewhere.”</p><p>Harry nodded, blushing lightly and avoiding the knowing <em> look </em> that he was getting from both Rafa and Siri albeit for very different reasons. It wasn't like Jean-Claude would be <em>moving in</em> so much as having another option when they were spending time together. Merlin knew that when they were in the Master's suite at the Circus they got interrupted more often than they liked once the sun went down. After all the silent little additions that Jean-Claude had made to his living space to accomodate Harry, it was about time Harry started doing the same. And it wasn't like shuttering wards were all that difficult anyway, even if they're mostly used in greenhouses to control the amount of light allowed for finicky plants.</p><p>Linking them to a vampire's presence inside the house was going to be the fiddly part, but after all the politics and rage and bullshit over the last month, a purely academic challenge, even one he had personal stakes in, seemed like just the ticket to letting off a bit of pressure.</p><p>He waved them on, mentioning that that were headed for the end of the hall.</p><p>As they walked, Harry pointed out the four doors in the hallways itself with a simple “more bathrooms,” then at the end Rafael realized that what he’d taken as a dead-end was actually a clever bit of painting and optical illusion concealing another short hallway junction: though instead of a landing area/sitting room, the ends of the short halls each had a door set in them while the long wall was blank.</p><p>“Left,” Harry directed them, then pointed behind them.  “That’s empty, I haven’t decided what to use it for yet.”</p><p>As for their destination, well, entering it was an immediate answer to its purpose and Sirius couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of a Frankenstein’s monster of the Hogwarts various types of dormitories mashed into one massive room.</p><p>Just without conflicting color schemes, instead having lush forest green walls with a soft white ceiling and a sealed and painted concrete floor in a warm sandy beige.</p><p>Counting quickly, Sirius noted two dozen or so double-bunk beds in a longer than normal length if of the normal single occupant width all made with either blue or grey bedding, as well as another ten single beds lined up against one wall that at the moment had been commandeered as Lillian’s infirmary complete with white sheets and green or tan blankets.</p><p>Which wasn’t far off as Sirius saw open cabinets with medical supplies and a sink with clean running hot and cold water as well as medical grade soap.</p><p>There were tall closets with doors, cubbies, and even short hanger poles set into the walls between each of the beds against the walls, with matching free-standing units made of honey-colored pine wood, plenty of places to sit other than the bunks and beds themselves, and even a handful of desks and bookshelves to keep occupants entertained.</p><p>To be frank, the only thing the basement was missing from what Sirius could tell was a functional kitchen, but it was entirely possible that that was next on the list as he <em> knew </em> he saw the sort of paneling that decorators sometimes used to hide refrigerators or pantries.</p><p>“You built yourself a bunker.”  Sirius chuckled, reaching out an ruffling Harry’s head.  “My family really <em> did </em> get to you, didn’t they?”</p><p>“Nothing wrong in being prepared.”  Harry huffed a bit.  “Especially given that since I tracked you down it’s been one joyride after another with half the time ending in someone bleeding.  I can’t help that my mind goes first to worst case scenarios, all I can do is work to recognize what is a reasonable amount of caution and suspicion and what is unwarranted paranoia.”  He rolled his eyes a bit and waved at the watchful and wary leopards.  “Recent events have definitely proven that the basement bunker is the former, <em> thank you very much.” </em></p><p>“Calm down Sassypants.”  Sirius sighed, reaching out to help - though the vampire hovering over Harry certainly didn’t need it - steady him as Harry moved to sit on a stool between Gregory and Nathaniel’s beds, where Lillian was reigning supreme.  “It wasn’t a criticism.”</p><p>Sighing and nodding in apology at his godfather, Harry leaned back into Jean-Claude’s unfaltering support at his back, Sirius and Rafael moving to flank them, and met Lillian’s amused gaze at the byplay.</p><p>“How are they?”</p><p>“Alive,” Lillian said drily.  “Which is already better than they should be from their pard members’ accounts and the report I managed to pry from this one.”  She waved fussily at the silent form of Damian who was standing watch - there was not other way to describe it - on the far side of Nathaniel’s bed.  “The master/animal-to-call bond is working its will on the youngest cat.”  She tapped her fingers on the sheets of Nathaniel’s bed.  “He’ll need to feed more to accommodate the drain on his power.”</p><p>“We will ensure all that is necessary is provided.”  Jean-Claude told her resolutely.  “As until <em> mon minet </em> is recovered and the bond is stable it is best they are not separated.”</p><p>“Good thing I have vampire-safe rooms ready then, isn’t it?”  Harry said idly though everyone knew it wasn’t idle at all, even as his pushed down on his instincts roaring at him and the merest <em> hint </em> that Nathaniel might be removed from his wards while vulnerable.  Fuck.  That might turn into a problem.</p><p>“Very much so.”  Jean-Claude agreed easily, sending soothing warmth through their bond, not a hint of amusement at Harry struggling with his new imperatives showing in any way, shape, or form.  He wasn’t stupid after all and had no intention of being banished from his monster’s side when they’d so recently made strides in solidifying both their relationship outside of their unbreakable partnership as well as their power base in the city.  “Donors are another matter.”</p><p>Because not one of them in the room was idiotic enough to suggest that Jean-Claude <em> share </em> Harry with him so drained, and asking a new Alpha to share from his Pard was nothing less than suicide even if the one in need was bonded to one of his leopards.</p><p>“Right.”  Harry sighed, rubbing his face.  “With my wards that’s going to be a logistical problem.  What about the rest of the Pard?”  He got back on track, knowing that he was tacitly leaving the problem of donors in Jean-Claude’s hands.</p><p>Mainly because he was rapidly running out of juice even with Jean-Claude being free with sharing his own energy and didn’t want to compound issues by using potions to keep going.</p><p>“Comparatively minor injuries on those three.”  She said referencing the watchful trio of Zane, Cherry, and Vivian, all the while not saying a word about the brutalization all of them - including her worst off patients - had suffered.  There was no need.  If someone as observant as Potter managed to miss the signs for himself, he wasn’t half the person, let alone the Alpha and human servant, that she thought he was.</p><p>And a shifter didn’t live to her age by being <em> wrong </em> in their assessments of powerful people.</p><p>“This one,” she sighed, resting her hand on the pillow next to Gregory’s head.  “Is healing well from what was done to him.  It’s the trauma of the most severe wound that concerns me.”</p><p>“It was the first time Gabriel or anyone went that far with someone who lived.”  Zane spoke up again, voice - and every inch of him for that matter - drawn as tight as a bowstring.</p><p>“And now he’s dead along with everyone who helped with his depravities.”  Harry said succinctly, a vicious snarl twisting his mouth and his nostrils flared.  “And all of you survived him.  You’ll survive the memory of him too.  <em> I’ll make sure of it.” </em></p><p>Over his head, Jean-Claude and Rafael once more shared a look - though this one was filled with more than a little pride in the one they’ve chosen to gift with themselves.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Honor Bound</b>
  </span>
</p><p><b>Chapter Eleven: Therapy.  Seriously.  </b> <b> <em>All the Therapy</em></b><b>.</b></p><p>Sirius solved the problem of Harry needing to rest with his new charges handily, stripping about half of the mattresses and their bedding from the bunks in the dorm room and levitating them over to the empty room across the hall before transfiguring the lot into one massive monstrosity of a platform bed.</p><p>Stretching the entire length and all but three feet of the width of the room that Harry had previously expanded to twenty feet long by eighteen feet wide and raised up off the floor with steps leading onto the bed, it was the ultimate “cuddle pile” solution that could only come from a Marauder, complete with a barrier spell over the mattress (to protect against blood, shifting-goo, or other fluids) and soft cotton sheets and bedding that could easily be washed in a soft blue-grey combination that matched the deep royal blue of the walls.</p><p>The lot of them were put down to rest - Harry in the middle with Gregory on one side and Nathaniel on the other, while the leopards surrounded them in a markedly attractive cocoon of pillows, pajamas robbed from Harry’s bedroom despite them being too short on Zane, and warm bodies - with a newly arrived Jason stripping off his jeans and laying down with Nathaniel between him and Harry.</p><p>Ostensibly it was to “comfort” him after what he’d been through that night but none of them were naive: he was as much a deterrent against the leopards getting any <em> rogue </em> thoughts in their heads as he was a friend or lover in that moment.</p><p>Jean-Claude took over the rest of the logistics, assigning Damian one of the light-tight rooms before claiming the other until Harry could get his shuttering wards in place, and even bringing Harry up to the kitchen for a moment before putting him down to bed so he could tweak the wards to allow a single person inside who didn’t already have access to feed Damian and help replenish his energy after he’d used much of it to save Nathaniel at Harry’s behest.</p><p>Between Sirius and Jean-Claude (and he was groggy as hell so he wasn’t sure if he was imagining a brisk phone call to the Ulfric or not) they somehow decided on Graham who was one of the strongest wolves in the Pack.</p><p>Harry thought it was a sort of test for the wolf, but he really didn’t want to know.</p><p>With how fucked up the Pack was, as far as he was concerned the less he knew the better until he had to deal with them as the new leader of the Pard.</p><p>Whatever.  Donor arranged.  Sirius and Jean-Claude would watch him.</p><p>Not his problem at the moment.</p><p>Under Dr. Lillian’s gimlet eye, Luthor had made sure that the Pard - those capable of drinking under their own power - were filled up with as much juice from Harry’s refrigerator that they could stomach before he left with the vampire guards, and as a result once all the twitching and fidgeting was done, the remaining - and one new - members of the Blood Drinker’s Pard passed the fuck out leaving Harry’s nearest and dearest to watch over them.</p><p>Well, and Lillian, but with patients to handle Harry didn’t think that they’d manage to dislodge her with anything sort of dynamite or a <em> Bombarda. </em></p><p>…</p><p>“Is he asleep?”  Sirius asked, as Jean-Claude and Rafael appeared from the basement with Damian on their heels joining himself and Marcus in the living room.</p><p>The Ulfric had arrived with Jason and Graham - the latter Damian’s donor for the night and would leave with Marcus - to hear firsthand from <em> someone </em> who’d been present about the turn over of power in the Pard and who of his missing wolves could be confirmed dead before their remains were identified (probably via dental records or DNA given how <em> virulent </em> Harry’s fire spells were and what he’d felt at the church when he’d apparated over while Jean-Claude was dealing with logistics.)</p><p>Narcissus, the Oba of the resident Hyena Clan, would be informed in time.</p><p>And if they didn’t like the delay, then they shouldn’t have worked so hard to remove themselves - as much as possible - from first Nikolaos’s and now Jean-Claude’s sphere of influence outside of the meanest of concessions in the form a guard or two to serve at the Circus.</p><p>Lillian was still poking around and organizing and inventorying Harry’s medical supplies in the dormitory but had agreed to spend the night in one of the two upstairs guestrooms after a bit of financial persuasion on the part of Jean-Claude in the form of a donation of additional funds for her soon-to-come shifter clinic in Riverfront.</p><p>Between Harry and Sirius they were confident that they’d be able to hide the clinic from any prying eyes or loose lips that might want to squash such an endeavor for one reason or another, but even with as capable construction crews as the Rodere boasted, building a medical clinic to Lillian’s standards still took time.</p><p>“Dropped like a rock once Jason curled up into him.”  Rafael reported with a soft huff of a laugh.  “I know he <em> says </em> his wards will protect him here,” he’s heard more than one rant on wards and magical protections from his little love, the subject being one of his passions.  “But I can’t say I’m <em> not </em> happy to save a bit of physical reassurance in case Zane gets any <em> bright ideas </em> about taking advantage of Harry’s exhaustion.”</p><p>“You and me both.”  Sirius sighed, then cast a meaningful <em> look </em> at Marcus who sent Graham to the kitchen to help himself to juice and fruit before he fed Damian.  As soon as the other wolf - another handsome bastard, that one, because of course he was, Harry wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the trend of supernaturals in this world being attractive more often than not - was out of the room, Sirius tossed up a privacy ward.  “Now,” he pinned the redheaded vampire with stormy silver eyes.  “What the <em> hell </em> happened tonight?”</p><p>Damian sent a startled look at Jean-Claude in confusion.</p><p>He’d thought that Master Harry’s recitation was both concise and complete, and said so, only to have the older wizard wave a dismissive hand.</p><p>“I don’t mean that.”  Sirius clarified, while Jean-Claude, Marcus, and Rafael all merely watched and memorized everything that went on.  “Harry is <em> notorious </em> for understating, downplaying, or skipping over events to either avoid topics he doesn’t want to talk about or keep from worrying those he cares about.  So.”  He leaned forward in the soft lounge chair Harry had picked out specifically for Sirius after seeing him lolling about in it at the furniture store.  “What did he leave out?  What did he skip over?  The wolves, what did they look like?  <em> How </em> exactly did he kill the leopards?”  He arched a brow as Damian’s expression made it clear he understood what Sirius was getting at.  “What <em> happened </em> tonight?”</p><p>“Start with the wolves, if you please.”  Marcus requested, taking out his personal blackberry to take notes.  “All but a handful of Raina’s cohort in the pack have disappeared.  If possible I’d like to narrow the search of the city for those who might yet be hiding from their accounting instead of fallen to Gabriel’s claws.”</p><p>With Damian’s recall, Marcus was able to put names to about half of the dead from the church, while the others had been too disfigured or he simply hadn’t gotten a good enough look at them for the Ulfric to place them from the little Damian could report.</p><p>Which, all things considered, was far better than the nothing he had before.</p><p>“I do not believe that he <em> intended </em>to take control of the Pard.”  Damian began there once the Ulfric was satisfied with his report about his missing wolves.  “It was only when the prickly one, Zane, with the,” he drew his hand down from the corners of his mouth to indicate Zane’s leopard fangs that were fixed in place from Gabriel forcing him to spend too much time in his animal form.  “Challenged his right to bind Nathaniel to me with his magic as my animal to call that he put forth the claim of having killed the last alpha, the Pard was now his and he was within his rights to bind Nathaniel whether the little cat was capable of consenting or not.”</p><p>Rafael and Marcus shared a glance then shrugged in unison.</p><p>It wasn’t like Harry was <em> wrong</em>, especially given that he hadn’t used magic to kill Gabriel and Damian - arguably an outside party at the time as he was a vampire and not a shifter <em> or </em> sharing a bond to a shifter yet - stood as witness.  No one was disputing that Harry was now the alpha of the Blood Drinker’s Pard.  After what he’d done to the last alpha as well as Zachary and Burchard - and Raina, for all that they doubted he’d ever admit it -, at this rate no one would <em> dare. </em></p><p>And when it came to the shifters under their aegis, especially the submissives, the alpha’s word was law.</p><p>A decent alpha - whether Rom, Ulfric, Nimir, Rex, Oba, etc. - took the cares and concerns of their people into consideration but when push came to shove it was all on their shoulders to make decisions and live with the consequences whether laudable, horrifying, or benign.</p><p>Sirius sighed, leaning back in his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose.</p><p>From all his observations, Harry had <em> always </em> been possessive, it just showed up with far more clarity and force now that he was an adult.  If he recalled correctly, there had been a particularly funny week when he was a toddler - perhaps a couple months before the inevitable Halloween - when Remus showed up torn all to hell from one of his missions to infiltrate a wolf pack and Harry had clung to him and pitched an unholy <em> fit </em> whenever someone came to close or tried to make him leave Remus to rest.  What Harry did to that fat bitch of a Dursley for narking off his parents was merely a taste of what he was capable of in either protection or defense of what was his.</p><p>As Gabriel had learned: Circe have <em> mercy </em> on anyone who hurt what was <em> his. </em></p><p>The kid didn’t follow Sirius into another universe on a whim or for a laugh, and that was merely one of the most recent instances of his protective and possessive tendencies rearing their heads.</p><p>“That’s the part I need to know based on how Harry skirted around it earlier.”  Sirius sat back up and pointed at the vampire.  “<em>How </em> did he fight the leopards without his magic?  He didn’t have his sword with him from what I could see and I don’t think he even owns a gun.”</p><p>Damian blinked.  “He shifted.”</p><p>“Oh fuck.”  Sirius groaned, burying his head in his hands.  “This kid is going to give me grey hair.”</p><p>“How did he shift?”  Rafael asked in blatant confusion.  “He’s immune to lycanthropy!”</p><p>“What?!”  Marcus burst out, eyes wide.  “Immune?  How can someone be totally immune?”  That was <em> not </em> possible, as a surgeon at a major hospital as well as Ulfric, he’d know if it was.</p><p>“We both are.”  Sirius sighed again, already coming to terms with having to let go of a secret or two if it meant easing things along for his pup.  Frustrating little bastard that he was.  “And to answer your question, Rafael, among our people you don’t have to be a lycanthrope to be a shifter.  All you really need is power and discipline.”  Sirius looked back up, staring at Damian once again.  “Which I knew about though he dodged answering me about his form.  What was he?  Something predatory obviously if he managed to take down a pair of leopards.”</p><p>“Like the tales my people used to tell of great wurms.”  Damian admitted slowly.  “So large he filled the chapel and the wrong movement would have brought it down upon him.  Eyes of green fire, claws of spears and daggers for fangs.  Horns and spikes from his head down his spine and ending in a great mace of a tail.  He could control the shift as well, like the strongest alphas can,” he nodded respectfully at the seated pair of shifters, the Ulfric and Rom both known for their shifting prowess and warrior forms.  “His eyes became slitted and reptilian, fingernails became claws, and his canines shifted into smaller forms of his dragon’s fangs.  And his skin.”  He added almost as an afterthought.  “It became the dragon as well, the leopards could not penetrate it no matter how they tried.”</p><p>Jean-Claude and the shifters were visibly stunned at his recitation though it was Sirius’s storming to his feet and over to the drink cart by the fireplace where he poured out a measure of scotch and scoffed it before getting another for slower consumption that kept them from stark disbelief.</p><p>Turning, Sirius took in the others then held up the bottle in his hand in wordless question to the rat and wolf, both of them nodding fervently, Sirius carrying over a pair of glasses and topping them up before setting the bottle on the coffee table well within reach.</p><p>“His scales.”  Sirius finally asked.  “What color were they?”  He already had a damn good idea based on the vampire’s description of his pup’s tail but he wanted to make sure.</p><p>Without their education, it was entirely possible that Damian simply didn’t have the right frame of reference for differentiating between the various species of <em> motherfucking dragons. </em></p><p>“Like your belt.”  Damian settled on, gesturing to the scale pattern that he now realized wasn’t from some odd form of lizard.  Well.  Unless one was being <em> very </em> liberal with what they considered a lizard.</p><p>Groaning, Sirius eyed the scotch before shaking his head with a curse and settling for finishing his second round still in his hand.</p><p>“That <em> fucking kid </em> is going to send me right into an early grave.”  Sirius complained, halfway between furious and sulking.  “His birth parents are laughing at me in the afterlife, I just fucking <em> know </em> it.”</p><p>“There was always the possibility that the Communist Bloc failed to purge the dragon shifters the way they failed with some of the other species.”  Jean-Claude was the first to snap out of his shock.  “But <em> mon ami</em>, I had no idea that you were a <em> dragon </em> in all my…”  He stopped when Sirius started waving his hand to halt him.</p><p>“<em>I’m </em> not.”  Sirius wanted to make that crystal clear before someone started thinking he could pop out wings on demand or shoot fire out his ass.  “Neither, strictly speaking is Harry.  What we <em> are</em>, are wizards who have the necessary power and training to perform a magical form of shifting our people call the Animagus Transformation.  It can take years to master but once we do, we have the ability to take, as Damian here saw, both the complete shift into our most primal selves and various forms of a partial shift, up to and including the warrior form that Harry used against the leopards.”</p><p>“Most primal selves.”  Rafael repeated slowly, eyeing the normally boisterous man in speculation.  “What does that mean for Harry?”</p><p>“Well, a lot of it you’ve seen for yourselves.”  Sirius shrugged, as the utter <em> impossibility </em> of Harry having the sheer amount of power it would take to manifest a dragon form would be lost on them.  “The precise species of animal - though it isn’t restricted solely to mammals, there’s been everything from bugs to birds to, well, dragons - can make a difference.  In this case you’d have to look at the characteristics of a Hungarian Horntail dragon to really understand why he took that form when he completed the transformation instead of a Welsh Green or any other species.  The major difference being a case of lethal ability and temper.  Harry’s species of dragon is the single most dangerous natural magical creature our people knew of that hadn’t been created for the sole purpose of killing or destruction.  Which given that Harry was the equal of the second or third most powerful wizard to reach maturity in two centuries <em> when he was born </em> is about right on point.  Protective, possessive, fierce, powerful, dangerous, skilled with fire, defensive of their agency and nearly impossible to cage, caring to their own, deadly to outsiders, and with a tendency to horde what strikes their fancy,” he shot a roguish smirk encompassing Jean-Claude, Rafael, and even Damian.  “In hindsight it’s so bloody <em> obvious </em> but at the same time I never would’ve considered it without Harry showing me or as happened someone saw him and reported it.”</p><p>“Why?”  Jean-Claude asked the salient question.  “If this form of shifting fits him so well, why wouldn’t you have considered it?”</p><p>“Power.”  Sirius told him point-blank.  “The top one percent of wizards have the power for the Animagus Transformation.  Of those, perhaps one percent <em> again </em> have magical forms and even then it’s animals that have passive magic.”  Like Sirius’s own Grim form, that didn’t <em> do </em> anything magical they simply <em> were </em> magical.  “Prior to Harry, I can think of one wizard <em> in all our history </em> who was <em> rumored </em> to have had a magical form anywhere near the same level of power needed for a dragon and even that was rumor that may or may not have truth to it or simply been used to amplify his reputation postmortem.”</p><p>“Who was that?”  Marcus asked, curiosity getting the best of him.</p><p>“Merlin.”  Sirius smirked at the goggle-eyed looked <em> that </em> got him from the shifters while the vampires to a one froze.  “The last wizard to be rumored to have power on-par with that kid currently cuddled up with part of his <em> horde </em> downstairs was the most famous wizard in history.”</p><p>There.</p><p>Suck on <em> that </em> while Sirius has to - once again - calibrate his expectations when it came to his godson.</p><p>…</p><p>By the time Damian was done giving his version of events to the presiding leaders of St. Louis’s supernatural community, the vampires were fed and dead for the day, and Marcus had escorted Graham off the property so they could start handling the wolf-end of affairs, Sirius was ready to hit the guestroom bed face down and not move for twelve hours.</p><p>To no one’s surprise, Rafael had joined the Pard and Jason in the cuddle pile, laying himself out at the head of the bed lengthwise.  It took all of a few minutes before Harry squirmed around until his head was wedged in the curve of Rafael’s neck, one hand coming up to twine with the Rom’s own.  The incorrigible little wolf followed his example after popping an eye open to ensure that Rafael was who he thought it was, and unrepentantly claiming one muscled arm for a pillow.</p><p>Such was the scene that revealed itself to Sirius and Dr. Lillian when around noon - after catching at least a few hours of sleep on both of their accounts - they poked their heads into the basement room to check on the pile of shifters after their busy and in many aspects traumatic night.</p><p>They’d expected to find a group of sleepy, healing shifters cuddled and snuggled up with each other.</p><p>What they’d <em> not </em> expected was for the moment the door opened and Lillian entered after Sirius was for a deep, rumbling growl to greet them and shock the shifters awake as Harry went from passed out to crouched and ready to attack with his slitted dragon eyes on display.</p><p>“Fuck.”  Sirius breathed, reaching out slowly as his godson tracked his every move with eyes that were open but not necessarily <em> aware </em> except on an instinctive level.  Which when dealing with a powerful animagus capable of leveling the <em> entire city </em> if it took his fancy, was very much <em> a bit not good. </em>  With the hand closest to her, he gently but firmly pushed Lillian back behind him and towards the door, those eyes never leaving them even for a second as the shifters arrayed behind Harry thanks to his instinctive spring forward started to realize what was going on.  “Lillian,” he said softly, every bit of his face, form, and voice as nonthreatening as possible.  “I need you to get out of his range while he’s like this.”</p><p>Being no fool and knowing when she was facing a vastly dangerous predator two inches from attack, Lillian instantly complied even as question after question tangled together on her tongue.</p><p>One threat taken off the board, and likely the one that tripped Harry’s internal alarms given her alpha shifter status, Sirius turned his focus to the shifters behind his pup now that he was the only one in the direct line of fire and felt reasonably certain that barring actual dragon fire his shields could handle whatever Harry threw at him when he wasn’t exactly thinking with his tactical mind instead of his protective hindbrain.</p><p>“Jason, Nathaniel, Rafael.”  Sirius continued in that low, careful tone.  “I need you to talk to him, sooth him, touch him gently - but not in places that he’d take as a threat.  You four,” he glanced at the other leopards.  “Don’t move or talk or draw his attention if you can help it.  He won’t hurt you like this if the bonds are in place but I’d rather <em> not </em> have to fight my godson because he felt the need to protect you from getting closer to a threat he’s sensed.”</p><p>“What’s wrong with him?”  Rafael echoed Sirius’s controlled tone as he shifted carefully brushing his hands over his love’s shoulders and down his arms in soothing strokes as the pair of submissives moved to nuzzle at his cheeks and neck, showing their own whenever Harry would glance at them, classic sub appeasement gestures towards an aggravated alpha.</p><p>“Harry’s not exactly <em> home </em> at the moment, but his dragon is.”  Sirius gave them the simple answer.  “It’s like sleepwalking.  His drives to protect are all kinds of riled with winning the Pard and the Pretty Kitty almost dying last night.”  Moving with exquisite slowness, Sirius held up his hands and knelt, resting his back against the door behind him as he sat on the floor.</p><p>Really, of all the times for his adventures with Moony to be paying off it was trying to keep Prongs’s son from tearing his head off because his mind was taking a siesta but his instincts were still in hyperdrive.</p><p>“Talk to him,” Sirius reiterated.  “The dragon is in charge at the moment, you need to call back the man.”</p><p>Leaning up, Jason proceeded to whisper an extremely explicit description of what he’d like to try the next time he joined Harry and Jean-Claude in bed, which had Rafael arching a brow and the quartet of non-involved leopards exchanging curious glances, having never expected <em> that </em> from cute little <em> Jason. </em></p><p>Blushing at the cheerful filth dripping from his friend’s tongue, Nathaniel nuzzled against Harry’s ear.  He didn’t remember much of, well, <em> anything </em> really.  If it weren’t for the Pard and the unrelenting feeling of <em> safety </em> he was getting through their bonds - even from Zane and Cherry who tended to be the most suspicious - he would be panicking right about now.</p><p>But he wasn’t.</p><p>He knew he was safe, and that Harry - who he’d liked the one time they’d spent any time around each other, and treated him just the same as everyone else despite smelling like he wanted to fuck him - was the reason he was safe, and not in pain, and warm.</p><p>“Wake up, Harry.”  Nathaniel whispered, lips barely brushing the skin of one bronzed ear.  “Please wake up.”</p><p>…</p><p>Harry was very much enjoying basking on his favorite rock when Jean-Claude found him tucked away in their shared mindscape: the endless rolling fields of wildflowers that had gained a scaled-down version of the Black Lake and a wide flat-topped rock that led to both Jean-Claude’s French chateau and Harry’s amalgamated Hogwarts/Grimmauld Place.</p><p>“<em>You,</em>” Jean-Claude’s voice was trying to be stern but was defeated by fondness.  “Have been keeping secrets, <em> mon tresor.” </em></p><p>Grumbling a bit and rolling his eyes, Harry shifted back into his human skin after giving his partner a long moment to study the bulk of his animagus form.</p><p>“But you knew that already.”  Harry countered, walked to the edge of the raised rock and hopping down in a smooth, athletic motion, landing lightly on the balls of his feet at Jean’s side before going up on his tiptoes and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Jean’s pouting mouth.  “As I know that there’s parts of your own past that you might never share in turn.”</p><p>“Touche.”  Jean-Claude smiled, wrapping his hands around Harry’s trim waist and pulling him firmly into himself.  Or his mental self.  Whichever.  “Your godfather explained <em> animagi</em>,” the word tripped strangely off his tongue.  “After Damian explained <em> how </em>precisely you defeated Gabriel and his paramour.  Your form is most impressive if hardly discreet, darling.”</p><p>Harry guffawed at the utter truth of that statement, especially as it applied to his animagus form as well as his magic in general: impressive but hardly discreet.</p><p>“Truer words, <em> mon cher.” </em>   Harry smiled, tucking his arms around Jean-Claude’s neck and just enjoying the moment.  “So.  <em> Leopard lionne. </em>   Possible <em> Nimir-Ravi,” </em> he pouted.  “Though I still haven’t figured out why Zane chose that for me and not Nimir-Raj.  Thoughts?”</p><p>“From one point of view it is a skillful consolidation of power.”  Jean-Claude admitted, narrowing his eyes as he moved through his thoughts and feelings on the matter.  “From another it will be a significant demand on your time - and it will be <em> your </em> time.  This is one area where it will be best if you stand apart from me, much as how I confirmed my alliance with your Rom without you present.”  He sighed, leaning forward and resting his forehead against Harry’s own, staring deep into those beautiful eyes.  “But they’re damaged, <em> mon tresor. </em>   Severely so.  What you witnessed last night from both your and Damian’s accounts as well as Lillian’s report on the leopards’ injuries, it was only the tip of the iceberg.  You may well devote <em> years </em> to helping them recover from Gabriel and Raina only to find that some of their wounds will never truly heal.  Scar, scab over, but not heal clean.  And <em> mon minet </em> is perhaps the worst harmed in some ways for all that the others will be no, how do you say, cake walk?, either.”</p><p>Harry ruminated on that for long moments, the two of them beginning to sway as Jean-Claude started to hum, moving into an almost-dance but not actually moving their feet in preference for holding and grounding each other.</p><p>“They’re mine, Jean-Claude.”  And for Harry, it really was just that simple.  “I know what was done to them - at least as much as Raina knew which was likely most of it.  I can’t abandon them and I can’t trust anyone else not to take advantage of how Gabriel beat obedience and submission into them.”  He sighed.  “I’ll need a list of therapists who can deal with treating shifters.  They’re going to need <em> all </em> the therapy.”</p><p>“Then you have some research and studying to do, <em> mon tresor,</em>” Jean-Claude told him.  “Because you know as well as I: <em> knowing </em> what their trials have been is not the same thing as understanding.”</p><p>“Mmm.”  Harry hummed his agreement, shifting so that he was resting his head on Jean-Claude’s shoulder, the vampire tucking him into his embrace, and there they stayed for long moments until a whisper caught Harry’s attention.</p><p>
  <em> “Please wake up...please.” </em>
</p><p>…</p><p>Harry blinked, confused for a long moment as he wobbled unsteadily regarding the state in which he woke up.</p><p>Not so much the being surrounded by Nathaniel, Jason, and Rafael part, but the crouching on the bed, staring down Sirius part - <em> that </em> made no fucking sense to him.</p><p>“There he is.”  Sirius blew out a relieved breath, rising as Harry sat back and let himself be guided into resting against Rafael’s - he turned his head to check - yep, Rafael’s chest.  “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty, your dragon decided to do a bit of sleep-protecting your horde of pretties and took offense to the Doc coming to check on everyone.”  He explained, Harry’s eyebrows rising higher and higher with several couple words.</p><p>“Well, that’s only moderately terrifying.”  Harry drawled sarcastically. “At least I didn’t shift, <em> that </em> would’ve been a real clusterfuck.”</p><p>Jason - and Cherry behind them - snickered at Harry’s response, the wolf ducking his head into Harry’s shoulder to muffle himself when the wizards shot him identical <em> looks. </em></p><p>“<em>Harry.” </em></p><p>Hearing the <em> tone</em>, Harry sobered, even as his free arm - not currently being cuddled by an affectionate blond werewolf - absently reached out and snaked out to pull Nathaniel into his side, his inner beast calming down at the instinctive movement to keep Nathaniel close.</p><p>Closing his eyes a moment, Sirius then looked up and briefly contemplated cursing out Prongs before focusing.</p><p>“Can the Doc come in, pup?”  Sirius decided to try and salvage the afternoon rather than obsess over what he couldn’t fix - at the moment.  “Sleep and skin contact helped them a lot, but she still needs to check on the Pard.”</p><p>A growl rumbled in Harry’s chest for a split-second before Harry snapped out of it with a sheepish look down at Nathaniel when the leopard squeaked in surprise at the expression of his displeasure at the idea of the alpha invading his <em> nest. </em></p><p>And fuck.</p><p>Those would be the primal instincts that were the downside of the animagus transformation at play.</p><p>Damn it.</p><p>“The dormitory will work.”  Harry decided after studying the leopards with careful eyes and testing their growing bonds for pain or weakness.</p><p>Though given that all of them were wearing either just a pair of sweatpants - the males, including Rafael and Jason - or sweatpants with one of his undershirt/tank tops it wasn’t hard to see that for the moment part they were healed either, or at least healed enough that there wasn’t anymore blood leaking and staining their borrowed clothes.</p><p>“Brilliant.”  Sirius threw up his hands and then turned and left the room.  Thank <em> Merlin </em> his form was a Grim.  The worst instincts he had to deal with was the occasional desire to haunt graveyards and a liking for his steaks on the rare side.  “We’ll be there then.  Best hurry if you want this all sorted before Jean-Claude wakes up for the night.”</p><p>“Thank you, Siri.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah brat.  You’re welcome, you impulsive prat.”</p><p>“Pot, kettle.”</p><p>“If the wand fits, pup, if the wand fits.”</p><p>…</p><p>“They’re physically healthy.”  Lillian gave the announcement with satisfaction as she filed the last chart that she’d created for the individual Pard members in the drawer that she’d appropriated in the basement dormitory/infirmary.</p><p>She’d moved briskly through the first three leopards, merely confirming that they hadn’t somehow injured themselves during the night as well as getting another set of vitals to help with creating their baselines - that <em> asshole </em> Gabriel had refused to seek any outside treatment for his leopards, the Pard forced to do what they could with Cherry’s knowledge as a former nurse - before taking more time with Gregory and Nathaniel in particular.</p><p>They’d been well on the way to physical recovery the night before but she was taking no chances on there being a problem with the magic Potter had used on the former and the link between the latter and his new vampire master faltering in the case of the latter.</p><p>Once they’d all finished, Harry had sent them upstairs to eat before worrying about the next steps, Rafael having them and a bouncy Jason who was excited his friends hadn’t been permanently wounded or killed well in hand while Harry talked to the doctor.  By then he’d managed to get his instincts under control to the point that he could have them all out of sight, but he was still keeping an ear on them - as well as monitoring the wards for problems.</p><p>“Mentally and emotionally however,” Lillian shot Harry a <em> look</em>.  “Is an entirely different matter.”</p><p>“I’m aware of the way Gabriel treated his people.”  Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.  “Top of my list after getting them settled is therapy.”</p><p>“Then I’ll leave you to it.”  Lillian stood, locking the files away with a turn of a key that wouldn’t mean much to someone <em> truly </em> intent on breaking into them but would keep curious noses out of the Pard’s medical affairs.  “As you’re already <em> miles </em> better than their last alpha.  However, if I could make a suggestion?”  She arched a brow as she picked up her briefcase and removed a pair of slim volumes from it.</p><p>“Rafael highly values your advice and you’ve taken excellent care of both my godfather and my Pard.”  Harry blinked, startled that she felt she needed to <em> ask. </em>   Maybe his little <em> episode </em> earlier had shaken her more than it had appeared at first glance.  “You can make as many suggestions as you like.”</p><p>With a wordless little smirk, she handed over the books and strode out the door, tossing a cheeky little “just in case” over her shoulder regarding the books.</p><p>Considering the titles of the deceptively innocent items in his hands that threatened to burn him alive via blushing, well <em> one </em> of them at least, he couldn’t say that her little jab wasn’t extremely well timed.</p><p><em> BDSM 101 </em>by Rev. Jen was the culprit of his heated cheeks, while the other was just as likely to be something Dr. Lillian carried all the time instead of a cheeky commentary on how to deal with a set of submissive shifters who’d been exploited every-which-way (including sexually and forced into sex work) by their last alpha.</p><p>After all, from what he’d seen at the Rodere and their habit of housing and training young shifters no matter their species, <em>The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma </em>by Bessel van der Kolk M.D.<em>, </em>was exactly the sort of thing one would expect the Rodere’s main doctor to pack around with her.</p><p>Whether either would be any help with navigating the ever-changing waters of his life and the people in it, now <em> that </em> was another story.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Both of the books mentioned here at the end are real, though I doubt either of them were published back in 2000 but let's just bend credulity a bit shall we?</p><p>The next update on this story won't be until the 16th, as the update that I would normally be doing on the 14th is going to be for Kurama's Skulk instead.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Honor Bound</b> </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Chapter Twelve: Come to Merlin</b>
</p><p>Harry followed Lillian upstairs, seeing her to the door like the gentleman the Black Portraits had tried to make of him and Harry pretended to be when he felt like it.  Partly so he could insist she took payment from <em> him </em> for her services to his Pard and partly to give him a couple more minutes to think.  He closed the door behind her then took a sharp left into his kitchen to take over the care and feeding of his new Pard - <em> Merlin that was so weird to think about - </em>from Rafael.</p><p>Because, realistically, while Jason was probably helping - and he was, he honestly was - as best as he could, over the last month Harry had come to find out that the adorable blond with his sunshine smile was approximately hovering between helpless and an active hazard in the kitchen.  To the point that if Jean-Claude or someone assigned by him (often Robert now with the recent changes) didn’t micromanage his diet Jason would live on nothing but microwaved pizza rolls and whatever fruit he remembered to grab in the kitchen Jean-Claude had added to the Circus’s underground tunnels for his non-vampire guests, residents, and/or employees.  Martha Stewart, or hell even a fry cook from a greasy burger joint, the wolf was not.</p><p>Though as it happened, Rafael had heard a story or two about Harry finding Jason stashing junk food in his room and trying to hide them from whoever was in charge of his diet on a given day before being caught by Jean-Claude, including <em> why </em> they were militant about his diet, and had planned accordingly.</p><p>In other words, he’d sat the wolf down on a stool at the counter and put him in charge of making sure that the leopards all ate their fills instead of whatever meager portions or scraps they were accustomed to receiving since Gabriel had taken them all into hiding.</p><p>The Rom himself was more than familiar with Harry’s kitchen and pantry, setting out a spread of the fresh cut and squeezed fruit salad and juice, platters of toast, eggs, and most of his freezer’s contents of breakfast meats.</p><p>Because, well, <em> carnivores </em> in their other skins, the leopards needed the protein and sugar to help them recover their energy reserves after healing.</p><p>Harry <em> had </em> been listening at the barbeque while all the alphas talked, and had picked up a tip or two that now was going to come in handy - when it came to feeding his new Pard anyway.</p><p>Caring for them...well that was still a work in progress, though at least Lillian hadn’t pitched a fit over being double-paid (though he wouldn’t have understood it if she did) for her services to the Pard.  Jean-Claude had made the original arrangements and that was just fine.  It wasn’t like she couldn’t use the money for her clinic.  But they were <em> his </em> Pard, he needed to be the one taking care of them at the end of the day.</p><p>“I see you corralled Sunshine.”  Harry commented to Rafael as he entered the room and took in the scene: his leopards all lined up at the counter with Jason in the middle fussing between Nathaniel on one side of him one moment and Gregory on the other the next.</p><p>“To be fair, it was his idea.”  Rafael admitted, leaning down and stealing a kiss from his little love.  “Where’s Sirius?”  He asked, seeing that the older wizard hadn’t followed Harry up.</p><p>Harry blinked, having assumed that his godfather had stayed with the shifters but...he reached out to the wards, finding him out in his obsidian ritual circle in the backyard.</p><p>Huh.</p><p>That was odd.</p><p>But at the moment, Harry had to focus first on straightening out some ground rules with the Pard before he worried over what was - and had been for a while - eating at Padfoot.</p><p>“Getting some air.”  Harry told him, returning the kiss before turning to the Pard.</p><p>Rafael, taking that as his cue, scooped up Jason with a look and took the wolf upstairs to Harry’s bedroom - with its excellent soundproofing and a closet full of clothes that would fit Jason (though he might struggle fitting his shoulders into Harry’s shirts) if he wanted to get cleaned up while they left Pard matters to the Pard.</p><p>…</p><p>Harry had to consciously keep his hands open and down at his side, to the point of leaning back against the countertop in front of the sink rather than crossing his arms over his chest as the leopards all seemed to freeze in unison and stop eating as soon as Rafael and Jason left the room.  The five remaining wereleopards of the Blood Drinker’s Pard slowly set down their forks or spoons or cups or whatever they’d had in their hands and proceeded to stare at him like a bunch of deer staring into headlights.  Given the givens, he couldn’t say that he blamed them for the caution, though he’d have to ask how exactly Rafael - who was a total Alpha’s Alpha when it came to his power and aura around other shifters - had gotten them to unwind enough to eat in the first place.</p><p>He’d be willing to bet good money that it was the same way Harry was probably going to have to manage it: by making it an order until they shook off enough of Gabriel’s conditioning to at least eat and see to their personal needs without having to order them around.</p><p>With the BDSM manual Dr. Lillian had given him, he had a feeling that Harry proving himself an alpha shifter was about to be followed up by a period where he’d have to prove himself a dominant in certain circumstances as well.</p><p>Therapy.  His leopards needed <em> all the therapy. </em>   Hell, at this rate <em> Harry </em> was going to need all the therapy with the rate problems and duties and responsibilities were being tossed onto his plate.</p><p>If they came out of their anti-Gabriel rehab and still wanted any sort of D/s dynamic - from what he remembered of his brief stint learning about the subject in London during a <em> very </em> interesting month towards the end of his time in his former home - he’d have to see what he could do about setting them up with a club membership or some other workaround.</p><p>Harry knew himself well enough to know that he wouldn’t ever kink or slut shame them for however they wanted to handle their personal lives, he just wanted those decisions to be made with clear minds and blatant consent.</p><p>He also knew that while dominance was something he was completely capable of, he didn’t know how successful he’d be separating sex from it, since his only positive experiences with that dynamic had been in a sexual setting - as Jason could attest at least to an extent.</p><p>Thank Merlin for Dr. Lillian because he had a feeling that some of his doubts might have answers in the book she’d given him, since while he was a trained Lord, when it came to the sort of all-inclusive power that an Alpha had over their shifters, he was a total neophyte.</p><p>And the last thing he ever wanted to do was make any of the Pard member’s issues worse because he fumbled or fucked something up.</p><p>“Let’s start with who I am.”  Harry decided.  “I don’t know what all you’ve heard or who you’ve heard it from, so I’m going to be factual and to the point so there’s no misunderstandings.  My name is <em> Hari </em> Potter,” he emphasized the Tamil pronunciation before giving them the English version.  “Most people just call me Harry.  I’m twenty years old, a wizard capable of acts of both small, discreet spells and massive magical acts such as shifting into my Animagus form of a dragon.  As a practiced animagus I also have the ability to take on what you all in St. Louis call a warrior or beast form.  It’s a trained magical talent, I was neither born nor infected with lycanthropy.”  </p><p>He watched as the three leopards who hadn’t been targeted for Gabriel’s “special attention” yesterday traded looks, Gregory and Nathaniel not taking their eyes off him for longer than it took them to blink despite both of them having goofed around with him not even a month ago as Jason tried and failed to teach him to dance.</p><p>“I’m wealthy, I own several properties, and I was trained as a magical Lord not an alpha shifter so we’re going to have a learning curve on that bit and will need to be patient with each other.  For instance magical Lords do not have the sort of utter control over their subordinates’ day to day routines that an Alpha can claim.  Rather, my magical subordinates would have had to gain my approval on matters such as marriage, careers, and areas of post-secondary education.”  </p><p>Harry could see that there was a bit of confusion surrounding that but that was okay.  With the way Gabriel and Raina alike controlled and abused the Pard with an ironfist and plenty of head-games, it might be a long time before they gained the level of autonomy he wanted for them.  It would just take time.</p><p>Time that hopefully, now with things settling down on the vampire end of things and the biggest problems among the shifters taken out, they would have.</p><p>“I’m dating Rafael, the Rom of the Dark Crown Rodere, and I’m the lover and human servant of Jean-Claude the Master of the City.  Yes, I helped Jean-Claude kill the last Master of the City.  Yes, I personally killed both Zachary for attempting to kill my godfather Sirius Black and then Burchard to weaken Nikolaos.  Yes, last night I tracked Gabriel - who I’ve been looking for for <em> days </em> after learning of his crimes both against the Pack and your Pard - to the church and killed both him and his little helper, Elizabeth I believe her name was.  No, I don’t regret any of it except not finding Gabriel faster.”  </p><p>And oh, he had a debt to pay on that score.</p><p>“I am possessive and protective of what is <em> mine. </em>   By virtue of Jean-Claude’s agreement with Gabriel, both Gregory and Nathaniel were <em> ours </em> to a certain extent.  Gabriel broke the contract and abused you, so I killed him.”  He clucked his tongue, arching a brow when Nathaniel blushed and ducked his head at that bit when he directed it directly at him and Gregory, who shifted in place but didn’t react as much as Nathaniel.  “All of your lives are going to be different now.  To find out <em> how </em> different, I need to ask you some questions that you’re probably not going to want to answer for whatever reason.  One thing I want to make <em> crystal clear: </em> anything that your former Alpha forced, coerced, demanded, manipulated, or otherwise pushed you into doing against your will - including taking advantage of your submissive traits - is <em> not </em> your fault and you have nothing to be embarrassed about or ashamed of.  Gabriel is dead.  That time is over.  Every one of you is <em> mine </em> now and I care for what is mine.  Do you understand?”</p><p>All of the leopards exchanged cautious looks, then slowly nodded.</p><p>“Good then.”  Harry sighed, then dragged over a stool and plopped himself down still in the middle of the kitchen where he could see all of the leopards.  This was going to take awhile.</p><p>Silent and wandless he summoned a lap desk that was enchanted to hover in midair, along with a clean notebook and a pen as well as his tape recorder - handy thing that was coming in quite useful - then flicked his wand down while those were flying through the air and arranging themselves to make a whole second breakfast, this one a full English with some of the meats hidden in his overflow freezer out in the garage.</p><p>All of the leopards eyed him with startled expressions, all big eyes and soft mouths.</p><p>“Please eat until you’re full, and ensure you drink and take bathroom breaks as we go through everything.”  Harry half-commanded and half-asked.  “I have a feeling we’re going to be at this awhile trying to get how things <em> were </em> clarified so we can set some ground rules for going forward.”</p><p>…</p><p>By the time Harry was done asking his questions, he was actually sorry that he’d killed Gabriel - and Elizabeth to an extent - so quickly.</p><p>He gave a split-second’s dissatisfaction to the method of clean up as well: ashes and no corpse meant that he couldn’t have an animator resurrect him so he could <em> kill him again </em> over and over again for the literal hell on earth he’d put the Pard through.</p><p>Gabriel had been a wereleopard alpha for just over five years - give or take, or at least that was when Cherry could place him showing up - and in that time he’d turned <em> all </em> of the remaining Pard except for Cherry.  Cherry, who was also the only one of the Pard to have an actual career before being turned, by virtue of <em> being the only fucking one who wasn’t a goddamned kid </em> when she was infected by a faulty batch of vaccine.  The same Cherry who was the only one of the Pard, by the same token, who had a fucking bank account and knew how to drive for all that her license had lapsed as Gabriel didn’t <em> allow </em> his Pard to have even that much independence.</p><p>Members of the Pard under Gabriel could not:</p>
<ul>
<li>Have a driver’s license.</li>
<li>Keep their own residence.</li>
<li>Have their own money, all of their earnings were turned into Gabriel.</li>
<ul>
<li>Oh, for that matter, they weren’t allowed gainful employment either - the closest ones to having that much autonomy from Gabriel were Gregory and Nathaniel, and even they still had to “see clients” - which led to the next point.</li>
</ul>
<li>Say no to anything Gabriel demanded of them in any fashion, including refusing to be pimped out by the Alpha as sex workers.</li>
<li>Defend themselves from either their <em>clients</em> or even a stranger on the street.</li>
<li>Refuse to have sex with anyone who wanted them.</li>
</ul><p>The list was longer: those were just the highlights; but on the last point generally speaking from what Zane managed to convey despite the lingering remnants of Gabriel’s orders that all of the wereleopards were going to need a <em> lot </em> of time to shake off, was one that tended to end in Gabriel tracking down anyone who touched his “merchandise” without his permission and getting his due - either in blood or money.</p><p>Sometimes both.</p><p>Add to the problem of none of them having, well, <em> anything </em> anymore in the way of personal effects from Gabriel forcing them into hiding with the clothes on their backs and their wallets (that only had ID and condoms, not even a picture, dollar bill, or even a library card) and yeah, Harry was giving serious consideration to cursing Gabriel in the afterlife.</p><p>What it all boiled down to was that Harry saw a long road ahead to deprogram the Pard.</p><p>Funnily enough, it wasn’t the first time in his life he was staring down such a reality, even after all the compulsions and bindings that he had been under for much of his life were broken.  The years of ground in behavior were still there.  Still influencing him.  Still trying to turn him into that self-sacrificing martyr for the <em> Greater Good. </em></p><p>He beat Dumbledore, there was no denying that.</p><p>But he was still a child soldier who jumped from abuse and neglect into a civil war and back for years, and that left its mark.</p><p>Anyone who thought it didn’t were fucking idiots.</p><p>Harry needed to have that conversation with a therapist to advise him <em> yesterday </em> but in the meantime he would stick with what had helped him from the start even if it took time to get used to: building the Pard a routine.  He had no intention of abusing the power that being their Alpha gave him over them, but for now it would certainly help keep them from retreating into the habits and routines Gabriel had indoctrinated into them.  At least until they could become accustomed to healthier habits and routines.</p><p>“First things first,” Harry decided as he rose and set his lap desk aside on the kitchen table rather than keep it hovering at his side.  He’d jotted down his thoughts to go along with the contents of the tape recordings, but for this next bit he wasn’t going to need them.  “Zane.”  </p><p>He focused on the member of the Pard that seemed both the worst off physically with the permanent changes to his human form from Gabriel’s “punishments” but also the <em> best </em> off mentally.  Perhaps because his personality wasn’t naturally submissive.  His <em> leopard </em> was submissive, but Zane the former pickpocket and streetwise homeless teenager (who still looked markedly young, despite being twenty-one according to his state-issued ID) was a tough little bastard with authority issues.</p><p>A <em> pretty </em> tough little bastard that Gabriel had apparently enjoyed doing his sadistic best to break, those looks of his probably the reason for Gabriel attacking and turning him, but a hard nut to crack nonetheless, similar to Cherry.</p><p>The other three, well, Harry had a feeling that with their personalities and the damage done, he might be having a rough conversation with a therapist about <em> managing expectations. </em></p><p>Like what Remus had told him the first time Harry saw Sirius after his escape on Buckbeak.</p><p>“There is a spell I know that might be able to force you fully back into human form.”  Harry told him succinctly.  “I’ve never tried it on a were, only my kind of shifter.  I can’t guarantee that it’ll work and I can’t say it will be painless.  All that covered: do you want me to try it anyway?”</p><p>Zane stared up at this strange creature who’d swept into the City and seemed to set it on <em> fire. </em>  He was by his own admission younger than all of the Pard except for Nathaniel but he had a look in his eyes that Zane recognized from looking in a mirror.  His new Alpha wasn’t anymore a kid than the rest of them were.</p><p>But he had a confidence that Zane had <em> never </em> seen before...except maybe in his lovers the Rom of the Rodere and the Master of the City.</p><p>When Harry looked at him and said that he would do something, Zane actually <em> believed </em> that he would do it and he didn’t try and hide when he was unsure and didn’t try and bullshit them or shut them up with an Alpha command or a warning snarl.</p><p>Out of all the powerful people in the city, <em> Harry </em> was the one that saw what Gabriel was doing and took him out, then stood as a shield between the Pard and anyone who might want to hurt them, taking them <em> into his home, </em> and demanding that they were taken care of.</p><p>“I want you to try, Alpha.”  Zane nodded, words slurred a bit as always because of his protruding fangs.</p><p>Nodding, Harry moved around the counter, scenting the Pard members with his hands on the backs of their shoulders - or in the case of Cherry and Vivian, the back of their necks since their tops got in the way - as he walked over to Zane who’d taken the far side of the counter that was closest to the outside doors.</p><p>Cupping Zane’s jaw carefully between his hands and tilting his head up, Harry studied the visible effects of a shifter spending too long in their animal form for a long moment then breathed the spell, power flowing directly from his hands and into one of <em> his </em> cats to protect: <em> “Homorphus.” </em></p><p>Zane sucked in a breath and clenched his eyes shut as a wave of burning heat engulfed his mouth and jaws for a long moment - almost searing but not quite - and then he <em> heard </em> as much as felt it as his teeth finally regained their human form and appearance and forced his dentition to realign after so long out of order.</p><p>Opening his eyes with a flutter of his lashes as he blinked away the moisture in his eyes from the sudden jab of pain at the end, the first thing he saw was Harry smiling down at him and then his Alpha dropped his hands before conjuring a polished mirror.</p><p>Taking it with a hand that shook - just a bit - Zane braced himself then <em> looked, </em> almost sobbing at the sight that met his blue eyes of an apparently normal, attractive young man in his early twenties: no sign of his leopard form showing at all.</p><p>“There we go.”  Harry left the mirror with Zane, imagining that if he’d been locked with his scales on show or his fangs, <em> he </em> would need some time to come to terms with the sudden lack of them.</p><p>Harry ran his hands down Zane’s neck and shoulders, taking extra care with scent marking his Pard member with him suddenly knocked for six and feeling wobbly.</p><p>Pard - or pack or whatever - bonds, it had to be said, were one hell of a trip if not as...<em> encompassing </em> as Jean-Claude’s marks.</p><p>“So,” Harry said, stepping back and wincing a bit on the inside as all of the leopards instantly swung around on their stools to face him totally.  Yeah….they definitely had <em> jump/how-high </em> down.  “Here’s what we’re going to do.  For today, we’re having a rest day.  We’re going to shower, change, eat, and nap.  Nothing serious, nothing to worry about, we’re just going to <em> be. </em>   My goal for this Pard is to protect you so that you can <em> all </em> be the version of yourselves that <em> you </em> want to be.  Not what Gabriel told you to be or Raina or your preschool teacher.  <em> You. </em>  Each and every one of you.”  He took turns staring each of the leopards dead in the eye to show that he was dead-serious about the subject.  “Right now, that probably seems like a terrifying idea.  That’s why it’s a goal.  It’ll take time and work to get there.  For now, unless I have to be at the Circus, we’re going to be doing everything as a Pard except going to the bathroom together.  We’re also going to have some ground rules.”</p><p>Harry arched a brow when Zane snapped out of his daydreaming after Harry giving him back his wholly human appearance enough to wrinkle his nose at <em> rules. </em></p><p>Honestly, given that Harry hasn’t even directed a raised voice or a disapproving look at any of the leopards, he gave it a day or two until Zane pushed him - or talked one of the others into pushing him.</p><p>He just hoped that he chose his battles carefully.</p><p>“Starting now, none of you are to leave this property - as delineated by the obsidian barrier wall,” Harry shut down an avenue for a loophole with a knowing look at Zane and Cherry.  “Without myself, Jean-Claude, or Rafael.  You will shower at least once a day, eat <em> at least </em> three meals a day, use the bathroom as necessary throughout the day, and brush your teeth after every meal.”  He knew he sounded like an ass even as he pushed, well, <em> something </em> into his voice - or like his Aunt Petunia, perish the thought - but he wasn’t willing to take any chances with their health and well being, even if it meant micromanaging the shit out of them until a professional gave him the okay to ease up.  “You will also sleep every night, <em> preferably </em> for at least six hours.  You will <em> not </em> knowingly engage in any activity that will harm yourself or others.  Do any of you have any questions regarding these orders?”</p><p>He could’ve been knocked over with a feather when silent Gregory raised his hand.</p><p>“Yes, Gregory?”  He gentled his tone, the <em> power? Command? Alpha?, </em> disappearing from it.</p><p>“Can we have visitors?”  Stephen’s quiet - almost sullen at times, which given the givens didn’t surprise Harry at all - twin asked.</p><p>“Approved ones, so long as you stay in one of the common areas I’m going to go over with you, <em> yes.</em>”  Harry told him after some thought.  “However, with how Gabriel exploited you, you will <em> not </em> be participating in sexual acts with another person until I have been assured by a mental health professional that you are capable of both consenting to and refusing sex and sexual acts.”  And...there was that strangeness in his tone again.  An alpha thing, maybe?  Responding to emotion or intent?</p><p>Gah.  Fucking St. Louis.</p><p>From the shocked looks on the faces of his new Pard, apparently that Harry would not only make that decision but make it an <em> order </em> had never occurred to any of them.</p><p>Which just made him want to summon the spirit of Gabriel and see if <em> Fiendfyre </em> worked on ghosts.</p><p>“And that includes me.”  Harry made clear, the leopards going from shocked to near-fainting.  Harry took that as a cue to find something else to do for awhile before his temper exploded all over them and his new Pard ended up utterly <em> terrified </em> of him for more than just the fact of him being their Alpha.  Closing his eyes, he flexed a bit of power and put labels on five of the single beds down in the dormitory, then moved a fresh change of clothes for each out of his closet and down onto each bed.  “That’s enough for now, I think.  There are four bathrooms downstairs, all of which are stocked with toiletries, and fresh clothes waiting for you in the dorm room.  We’ll be spending most nights sleeping in the room where we woke up, but if you want to nap by yourselves or store things, that’s what the assignments are for.”</p><p>Jason - who’d clearly been eavesdropping - took that as his cue and bounced down the stairs for another go at leopard wrangling, leaving Harry to fall into Rafael arms in a heap of depressed mental exhaustion.</p><p>And he hadn’t even been awake more than a couple hours yet.</p><p>For that matter...what the <em> hell </em> was Siri doing out in the stone circle for that amount of time, especially alone?</p><p>“You did great for starting out.”  Rafael told him honestly.  “A lot of those are similar rules that we use with the rescued street kids we find who’ve been turned.  Once you get them in therapy you can flesh out actual schedules for them, but at least this way you know they’re safe and taking care of themselves.  I almost what to force them to start eating earlier, Gabriel had them so beaten down.”</p><p>“Yeah.”  Harry sighed, waving a hand weakly at the recorder on the table.  “That has a lot more of the nitty-gritty details about what he did and how he operated than what I already knew.  And at some point I’m going to have to reverse the order regarding <em> harm </em> if I want them to learn and then be able to defend themselves.  But in a strange situation that’s utterly contrary to everything they’ve known for years, I’m not willing to take any chances.”</p><p>“I don’t blame you, and neither will they once they’re in healthier headspaces.”</p><p>Harry snorted softly, not entirely sure he believed that, then hugged Rafael tight and bounced up on his toes to kiss his beautiful boyfriend before Rafa had to leave to handle the fallout of the change in power and how the Rodere was going to adapt.</p><p>Rafael squeezed him tight, rubbing their cheeks together, then asked if he wanted him to give Sirius a lift back to his apartment.</p><p>“No,” Harry decided, looking over his shoulder at the backyard through his french doors.  “No, Sirius can get home on his own accord.  Besides.”  He pursed his lipes.  “There’s something up with him lately, and I seem to be in a mood for fact-finding.  I think it’s time we have whatever is bothering him out.”</p><p>Especially since the <em> last </em> thing he needed while trying to rehab a handful of submissive wereleopards who’d been used as prostitutes was Sirius finally reaching critical mass on his temper and then exploding at the worst possible moment.</p><p>When Harry called his godfather’s temper <em> volcanic </em> he wasn’t joking around.</p><p>At all.</p><p>This time however, he couldn’t take the chance that bystanders were going to get hit in the splashzone.</p><p>Not when they were relying on him to keep them safe - even from himself and those he loved, if necessary.</p><p>…</p><p>Entering the stone dance, Harry paused in mid-stride at the sight that met him.</p><p>Sirius spending so much time out there had struck him as odd, but he’d had to put it aside while dealing with suddenly having a Pard of horrifically abused shifters looking to him for both protection and guidance.</p><p>While it could be argued that all of the Pard were adults and responsible for themselves, the reality was vastly different.  <em> Any </em> shifter dominant enough - or hell, even some humans, and don’t even get him started on the vampires - could command anyone of the Pard to do literally anything and none of them were in a mental state where they could refuse them.  The possibilities for continued abuse after all that they’d been through had rushed through his mind at Mach speed when the full <em> breadth </em> of what Gabriel had done to them was made clear.</p><p>When push came to shove, of the two things Harry needed to handle at the same time, the Pard had simply been far more immediate than dealing with Sirius’s weirdness.</p><p>His godfather was damaged as well in his own ways, he talked a good game around others but Harry remembered the years immediately after his escape from Azkaban far too well to ignore the shadows that darkened his eyes at times or the tells every now and again that he hadn’t been sleeping.  But Sirius was a responsible adult.  Damaged or not, he could take care of himself.</p><p>The Pard could not and <em> should </em>not do the same.</p><p>Still, he couldn’t say that he’d expected to find Sirius laying on his back on the altar in the middle of the ritual space, one leg swinging idly off the edge while the opposite one was bent at the knee with Sirius’s foot planted flat on the smooth surface of the slab.  His arms were bent and folded behind his head, his head resting on his palms.  To another, it might seem like Sirius had fallen asleep or was cloud gazing in the waning light as they crept towards dusk.</p><p>Harry however wasn’t naive or magically null and could <em> feel </em> the writhing temper wreathing his godfather as soon as he breached the boundary line of the dance.</p><p>“I try to remind myself that you’re a grown man, Harry.”  Sirius said as he felt his godson draw close, closing his eyes and holding onto his temper with both hands before he sat up and swung around to face him, hands propping himself up on the edge of the obsidian altar and staring him down.  “That you don’t <em> need </em> parenting.  That my role in your life is to be a confidant and advisor when you need them and cheerleader when you don’t but,” he blew out a breath, shaking his head.  “You make it hard not to scold you when you <em> persist </em> in being an ostrich-headed little <em> jackass.” </em></p><p>Okay, maybe he snapped that last bit, but he was <em> trying </em> and the Black temper once roused was no joke to try and contain.</p><p>And with his latest stunt, Harry had well and truly <em> pissed him off </em> because there was only <em> one </em> reason Sirius could think for Harry’s inner animal to be acting out like he’d done - no matter what bullshit he used to cover for his pup to the others - and it didn’t paint a pretty picture of Harry’s priorities since sauntering on through the Veil of bloody fucking Death.</p><p>Harry lifted his brows in surprise, rocking back on his heels and tucking his hands firmly into his pockets.  If Sirius was after a row, Harry had <em> more </em> than enough turned-under rage to give him one.  He just didn’t want to accidentally turn his godfather into a toad or something.</p><p>If there was going to be any shocking jinxes or hair color changes or human-to-animal transfiguration going on, he’d rather it be entirely intentional, thank you.</p><p>He didn’t think this was going to devolve to that sort of thing, hence Sirius removing himself to the stone dance that would contain any sloughing off of his magic from his temper running amok, but it didn’t hurt to take precautions either.</p><p>The honeymoon was well and truly over he supposed, a month or thereabouts apparently enough for the two of them to start butting heads.</p><p>Considering that Sirius had been laid up and put on bedrest in Harry’s house for two weeks of that month, it actually was rather impressive that they <em> hadn’t </em> started snarking at each other before now given their temperaments and infamous tempers, Sirius’s threats to Harry’s warding if he tried to keep him longer aside.</p><p>Merlin knows that Sirius <em> had </em> to be hacked off over Harry risking the Veil, attempt to reunite with him aside, but his godfather had yet to take him to task for even that epic bit of recklessness yet.</p><p>He had a feeling it was coming now, if the storm brewing in Sirius’s eyes was any sign.</p><p>“That I can be a little jackass at times, I can’t and won’t deny.”  Harry shot back.  “But what precisely am I supposed to be burying my head in the sand about?”  His lip lifted a bit in a sneer worthy of Draco Malfoy.  “I thought that was <em> everyone else’s </em> modus operandi given that I’ve been in the City for a matter of <em> weeks </em> and I’ve already taken care of a few well-known stains to humanity.”</p><p>“Don’t,” Sirius warned him, pointing with one beringed finger.  “Don’t you do that.  You’re new here, Harry.  For all that you’ve been learning quickly, you still don’t <em> know </em> the way things work or the factors in play.  Don’t you climb up on a Potter high horse and start judging how the people who had to live and survive here managed their lives while dealing with a sociopathic Master of the City, and a pair of psychopathic Alpha shifters who were capable of dealing out so much pain and fear to those around them that their victims were <em> terrified </em> to go against them and alert the only ones who could’ve helped them.  You may have saved them,” Sirius jerked his head towards the house.  “But that doesn’t give you the right to make assumptions about why no one else did until you hear it from their own mouths.”</p><p>“I thought you weren’t going to go all parental on me Padfoot?”  Harry asked, hiding that his godfather had managed a direct hit.  “That sure sounds like a scolding.”</p><p>“That’s just a friendly reminder that as much as you look like your dad, there’s parts of his personality that you’ve been <em> crystal clear </em> about not wanting to emulate.”  Sirius reminded him.  “Just trying to keep you honest, kiddo.  And you know what you’ve been avoiding.  You <em> have </em> to know.  Someone as synced with their magic as you can’t be blind to what has been <em> missing </em> from it - or that it’s been working to replace it.”</p><p>“I don’t want to talk about that.”  Harry took an instinctive step back, hands out of his pockets and fisting at his sides.</p><p>“Well we’re <em> going </em> to talk about it now.”  Sirius hopped down from the stone slab and paced right up to his godson, stopping bare inches from stepping on his toes.  “Because next time it might not be you waking up a bit on the cranky and protective side.  <em> Next time </em> it might be you shifting in your sleep and leveling your entire fucking house.  Or losing your grip and setting someone who irritates you on <em> fire.</em>”  Sirius’s silver gaze searched emerald green.  “You <em> have </em> to realize what’s going on.  You’re too damn <em> smart </em> not to know.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter, Siri, I’m <em> fine.” </em></p><p>Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes.  “Oh yes, you’re just peachy.  Your magic is destabilizing and starting to act out, but you’re fine and perfectly in control.”</p><p>“I <em> am </em> in control!”  Harry shouted, and then gasped as Sirius only <em> looked </em> at him and then down at his fists that were suddenly wreathed in flame.</p><p>Rather timely too, as the sun finished setting and the pair found themselves with an audience of two vampires who sped out to the backyard, one following the turmoil of his bond with Harry and the other the sounds of arguing.</p><p>Gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, Harry struggled for the first time in <em> years </em> to keep his flames in check, all the while he could <em> feel </em> Jean-Claude’s concern and Damian’s wary gaze, Sirius watching him with that expression that was utterly <em> infuriating </em> in its understanding gentleness.</p><p>“What you are is a Lord of Magic.”  Sirius refused to stop just because they’d gained an audience of two. </p><p> One of whom would keep Harry’s secrets because of their bond and the other who was beholden to the first.  No, he wasn’t going to give Harry time to deny that he was starting to lose it, that he <em> wasn’t </em> as in control of everything as he liked to make out, and that his magic had called more than one shot for him since he’d stepped through that bloody damned Veil in London and out into Stonehenge.  </p><p>“Not a <em> potential </em> Lord,” Sirius cut off Harry’s future argument at the knees.  “Not a nascent or new Lord.  You claimed and bound two magical lordships three years ago and if <em> that </em> wasn’t enough to fuck you up now that they’re gone, you actually <em> used </em> them as was a Lord’s prerogative.  You weren’t a Lord in name.  You were a Lord in oath and act and blood.  And now there is a hole in your magic where it had welcomed the power of dominion your Lordships gave you, one that begs to be replaced, and until it is filled you will <em> continue </em> to be drawn into situations that might satisfy it and your magic will continue to act erratically.  You <em> know </em> that.  I find it impossible to believe that my family wouldn’t have told you of the dangers that come with what you’ve done.”</p><p>“<em>Mon tresor?” </em>  Jean-Claude prompted him when it seemed like the pair had reached a stalemate - though all he was getting through his marks was a sense of heavy resignation.</p><p>“I thought it wouldn’t matter here.”  Harry murmured, shaking his head slowly even as Sirius reached out and pulled him into his embrace, his flames thankfully snuffed for the moment.  “That it would heal in time and it wouldn’t matter.”</p><p>Sirius snorted.  “Well, you always were an oblivious little toerag when it suited you.”  He said drily.  “But really: you said one moment - and most sincerely too - that you wanted nothing but to live freely and under the radar and the next you were going on dates with the most powerful shifter in the City and taking Jean-Claude’s marks.  It <em> does </em> send up a bit of a distress signal, pup.  But going after Gabriel on your own, taking over the Pard?  If <em> that </em> wasn’t your magic adapting to the way things work in this world and trying to fill the gap from your former Lordships, I’ll eat my Triumph petrol and all.”</p><p>“What can be done?”  Jean-Claude asked both of them, deeply disturbed and more than a little distressed that his little lover was so overwrought - though also determined to keep the thrill of excitement at the news of his former station tucked away to himself.  Even if it did explain more than a few questions he’d had about how a strange magic user who’d never been a part of a vampire court had been treading the waters of his kiss without seeming to waste a single ounce of effort.  “To stabilize <em> mon tresor’s </em> magics?”</p><p>“Your bond has likely helped a lot.”  Sirius said after Harry declined to comment, burying his face into his shoulder with a huff.  “So will taking over the Pard.  But if we want to fix it altogether so he’s not being pushed into dangerous situations because of his magic?  He needs to claim a territory.”</p><p>“What?”  Harry and Jean-Claude asked in unison, the former unearthing himself from Sirius’s embrace and stepping back as Jean-Claude stepped forward and put himself at Harry’s back, hands resting easily on his hips.</p><p>“That’s how it used to be done.”  Sirius shrugged, then cocked his head in question at his godson.  “I can’t believe the old fogeys didn’t cover that in your lessons.  Before the Lordships were bound to families and houses, they were taken with the land.”</p><p>Harry lips rounded into an “O” of realization, Jean-Claude arching a brow at the chagrin he caught via their bond.</p><p>“I knew that.”  Harry admitted sheepishly, one step away from running his hand through his hair.  “That’s just literally <em> ancient </em> history, I can’t even remember the last time that’s been done.”</p><p>“Well, unless you want to end up scrapping with your boyfriend for control of the Rodere, or willing to go rounds with the Ulfric.”  Sirius arched a brow.  “You might want to unearth that tome from your library and see if it can be replicated.  Otherwise, Jean-Claude is probably going to have to keep a babysitter on you twenty-four/seven if he wants to avoid a repeat of last night’s events.  Someone capable of talking down a half-awake dragon animagus, while they’re at it.”</p><p>Jean-Claude studied Harry with care, then thought: <em> it is your magic, mon tresor, is Sirius’s advice sound? </em></p><p><em> Much as I hate a Come-to-Merlin as anyone else, </em> Harry sighed, then nodded.  <em> He’s right that I’ve been ignoring the problems and just trying to outrun them.  </em> He drooped.  <em> I wanted this to be a fresh start, with none of the duties of the old following me. </em></p><p><em> Well, this secret you’ve kept certainly explains a few things mon tresor.  </em> Jean-Claude smirked down at him.  <em> Though I believe given recent events, that a bodyguard is in order regardless. </em></p><p>
  <em> Damnit. </em>
</p><p>“Come,” Jean-Claude turned Harry and tucked him under his arm, guiding his little lover back towards his delightful home as his good friend fell into step, Damian still acting as guard at the rear.  “It seems we have even more to discuss than I thought.  Let us return before your new <em> chats </em> worry themselves into a frenzy over their Alpha’s upset, <em> oui?” </em></p><p>“Low blow.”  Harry grumbled good-naturedly.  “And I <em> really </em> need those referrals for supernaturally-inclined therapists, Jean-Claude.  <em> Really </em>need them.”</p><p>“But of course,” Jean-Claude smiled, then turned and pressed a kiss to Harry’s furrowed brow.  “It shall all be as you wish, <em> mon tresor, </em> I will ensure it.”</p><p>“<em>Suck up.” </em> Sirius coughed into his hand, grinning smarmily when Jean-Claude and Harry shot him nearly identical <em> looks</em>.  “What?”  He bounced a bit, good nature restored now that Harry had pulled his head out.  “You are an <em> epic </em> suck up, Jean-Claude, Harry pouts and you practically melt into a pile of goo.”</p><p>Jean-Claude narrowed his eyes and gave a little hiss at the charge from his friend, Harry muffling his laughter that was as much directed at his reaction as it was Sirius’s poking at Jean-Claude’s elegant and untouchable public persona.</p><p>All the while, Damian followed them, wondering more than once just what Perrin’s decision to accept this placement for them had gotten them into.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>New French for this chapter:</p><p>Chats - cats</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This needs a proofing pass, but I'm exhausted so...</p><p>Almost there!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Honor Bound</b> </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Chapter Thirteen: Status Quo</b>
</p><p>“Oh, my bad.”  Harry winced as he realized a moment too late that Damian’s prior invitation needed to be renewed after all the ward shuffling and what-not.  “Damian, please be welcome in my home.”</p><p>There was still a lot to work out after the events of yesterday, and high on the list was how Nathaniel being Damian’s animal to call was going to function.</p><p>But first: vampires needed feeding and Harry needed a hot shower before he started smelling his own stank, so Harry left the vampires to handle themselves while he took care of his hygiene.</p><p>And if he spent a moment just <em> screaming </em> in his soundproofed shower or letting the hot water pound away his tension headache, no one needed to know.</p><p>When he came out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel through his hair with another wrapped around his hips, it was to the sight of a flushed and freshly-fed Jean-Claude sprawled out and lounging on the chaise Harry had put in the dormer window, a lovely thing of curved lines and cream silk with faint golden stripes.  And Jean-Claude was far more lovely upon it.  All long lines and silk covering the chiseled lines of his chest in the pure white the master vampire favored more often than not, this night wearing matching white leather wrapping his lower body so lovingly that Harry was still a bit confused how Jean-Claude managed it without magic they clung so tight, with white leather knee-boots on his feet.</p><p>What had Harry arching a brow wasn’t his lover in his rooms or even the fresh clothing that must have been brought by Sirius or one of the (very few) members of the Rodere who could come and go semi-freely on Harry’s property as he hadn’t felt a ping on the wards for an unexpected visitor taking advantage of the intent wards to knock on the door.</p><p>It was the hinged jeweler’s box that Jean-Claude was turning over idly in his right hand, a box so highly polished and carved that it was a work of art in itself disregarding whatever it held in its cherrywood depths.</p><p>“So much can happen in the blink of an eye, <em> mon tresor,</em>” Jean-Claude mused as he turned his head to watch Harry out of dark sapphire eyes that were as fathomless as the night sky in the low light of the room.  “The world itself can be altered in an instant - or a person’s understanding of it - all the while no one else knows of it and to an outsider it would seem that the world is exactly the same as yesterday, or last month, or even a hundred years ago.”</p><p>“I’ve always thought that living forever was a madman’s dream.”  Harry admitted, shrugging one bronzed shoulder as he sent the towels to the hamper with a flick of his fingers and slid into the worn-white at the seams vintage Levi’s he’d picked up at a store during his shopping spree with Sirius.  “Given that the only wizards I’ve ever met who pursued it were mad as a bag of cats.  But no one can deny that it’s given vampires an interesting perspective on life and how history is shaped.”  Harry tilted his head, studying Jean-Claude for a moment longer, then shrugged into his red t-shirt as he moved to prop himself on the edge of the chaise at Jean-Claude’s right hip, propping his palm on the cushion on Jean-Claude’s left and bracketing the vampire - at least partially - with his body.  “What’s wrong, <em> mon cher?</em>”  Harry frowned.  “Is it what Sirius said about my magic or my former status?”</p><p>“<em>Non, </em> though it did answer a few questions I had regarding your seeming <em> ease </em> with navigating court.”  A smile quirked up the corner of Jean-Claude’s lush mouth.  “And if yourself and <em> mon ami </em> did not have a solution to stabilizing your magics that would be a different matter.  Unifying the magical persons of your territory under your authority - given what I have seen in this past month - will only further consolidate our power in our territory and unite our peoples against the attacks against our authority that will inevitably arise.”</p><p>Harry wished he could debate that, but, well.  Jean-Claude <em> wasn’t wrong. </em>   This world was far more <em> openly </em> brutal in many ways than the wizarding world but he was starting to believe that wasn’t a bad thing.</p><p>He believed down to the ground that there needed to be more checks on what people did with certain kinds of magic - and some that he would <em> never </em> be teaching another soul, which Sirius had fervently agreed with once his godfather realized the sheer amount of knowledge Harry had brought with him via his library - but he couldn’t deny there was an efficiency to being able to cut off a head when it was needed rather than dancing around with laws and juries and courts.</p><p>It might not be <em> moral </em> to take justice into their own hands, especially by the measure of his former home, but it certainly took the chance of someone like Raina or Gabriel from walking away free as a bird from their crimes because they bribed a jury.</p><p>So there was that.</p><p>But it could also work against them.</p><p>Case in point:</p><p>The lack of oversight and mutual agreement to keep the mundane humans in the dark to what <em> actually </em> went on in the supernatural world also led to assholes wanting to try their hand at taking over a territory for whatever reason.  They didn’t like the person in power or their policies (such as why Jean-Claude and Harry took out Nikolaos.)  They had a vendetta or an axe to grind.  Or even that they simply wanted to see if they <em> could. </em></p><p>Because it seemed no matter <em> where </em> they were or what world they were in, there were those people who just wanted to fight or watch the world bleed.</p><p>Someone, sometime, was going to come to St. Louis and try to knock Jean-Claude out of power.</p><p>What it said about <em> Harry’s </em> proclivities that he was actually kinda looking forward to it, he’d rather not think about.</p><p>“You did a happy dance when you found out about my <em> other </em> form, didn’t you?”  Harry huffed a little laugh, shaking his head.  “And then again over my having to stop running away from my responsibilities.”</p><p>“I would not say <em> that,” </em> Jean-Claude’s smile was a sly, wicked thing that did <em> terrible </em> things to Harry’s libido that they unfortunately didn’t have time for at the moment.  “However, I can <em> not </em> say that I was displeased by the revelations of the last night and day.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m <em> sure,</em>” Harry rolled his eyes at Jean-Claude’s not-hidden-at-all <em> Slytherin-ness. </em></p><p>“Though I <em> am </em> finding myself a bit at sea over how being a Lord of another place or people means that you must be a Lord here.”  Jean-Claude unbent enough to admit the lack in his own understanding.  Though he couldn’t be blamed for it.  After all, even the true ancients among his people often were left in confusion over true <em> magic </em> when it appears in a human, with the exception of necromancy that they understood <em> all </em> too well.  “Your magic has come to <em> expect </em> dominion as part of itself, <em> oui, </em> why can it not be satisfied with your position over the Pard or as my human servant?”</p><p>As both of them are stations of great power and authority over others, one more so than the other and <em> inherent </em> in its position and not merely granted at Jean-Claude’s will, it was a more than reasonable question.</p><p>And unfortunately for Jean-Claude, as it is sometimes with magic, there wasn’t a necessarily reasonable answer.</p><p>“It comes down to actions and decisions prior to my following Sirius here.”  Harry sighed, turning his head to stare out into the night.  “Sirius didn’t have a problem with his magic being unstable - even though one of the Lordships he mentioned I inherited from <em> him </em> - because he never claimed the lordship or used its power.  It’s a blood rite, Jean-Claude.  I <em> bound </em> the Black and Potter Lordships to me via ritual when I accepted them.  I passed them on when I left, appointing a Lady for the House of Black - Sirius’s cousin, actually - and a distant cousin of my own to the Potter Lordship.  But while I <em> had </em> the power of the Houses at my command, Sirius was right: I used them.  Even if I only used them the <em> once </em> for a blood curse, I used them.  And when it comes to blood magic, my magic adapts to it differently than the others of my people, it can cause complications or ease the way depending on the circumstances.”</p><p>“The Lordships,” Jean-Claude said, perceptively.  “They are the equivalent of a <em> sourdre de sang, </em> are they not?”</p><p>“Or maybe a Master of a City.”  Harry admitted, turning back to face his lover, peeking up at him from under lowered lashes.  “Depends on the Lord and Lordship.”</p><p>“This is why your magic is unstable.”  Jean-Claude hit the nail on the head.  “It is accustomed to a plethora of bonds to your people grounding it - and if I am reading your story and what you are <em> not </em> saying correctly - and having gone into self-exile, you cut yourself off from them, unmooring your magic as a result.”</p><p>“In part, yeah.”  Harry winced, not liking the way that sounded when Jean-Claude summed it up.  “There’s a literal <em> grounding </em> component as well.  Our magic sinks into the earth and buildings that we spend a lot of time around.  We spell and enchant and protect them and as a result they start to adjust and welcome us.  I’ve done a <em> lot </em> of work to sink my magic into my new home, but I had a dozen or more properties before that were linked to me as a double-Lord, the one I lived in for the four years directly before coming to St. Louis had housed <em> generations </em> of Sirius’s, well <em> our </em> we are cousins, family.  I don’t have an equivalent to that yet here, even if I am starting to plug the gaps in my magic with adding bonds to people here.”</p><p>An unintentional effect of a decision that his magic had played on his instincts and prodded him into, he could see that now, but one he found hard to regret when it had the chance to serve the Pard so well going forward.</p><p>It also saved Nathaniel, which was something that Harry couldn’t bring himself to regret even one iota.</p><p>Jean-Claude nodded, pensive, as he stopped turning the box in his hand over and over, and instead tapped the top rhythmically before he held it out to his little monster.</p><p>“I will trust you to manage your magic and your territory in accordance with your ways, <em>mon petit sorcier.”</em>  He stated formally.  “With the recent changes in the city adding more,” such as trying to officially name Harry his consort and establish his <em>official</em> dominion over the kiss, “would be unwise at this time.  However, you <em>are</em> <em>mien,</em> and as your magic wishes to claim territory, so my instincts need to be sated as well.”  His eyes lavished a long glance at the curve of Harry’s neck where Jean-Claude’s bite had healed into a silver-white half-moon.  “One none could deny came from <em>me</em> and no other.  But before then,” Jean-Claude rested his hand gently but immovably on top of Harry’s before he could open the box.  “There is a matter that recent events have made apparent must be discussed.”</p><p>And <em> oh, </em> Harry didn’t like the sound of that last bit, even as his rampant curiosity wanted to see what Jean-Claude meant by a <em> claim </em> that came in the form of jewelry.</p><p>There was no need to guess where Jean-Claude had likely gotten ideas for what Harry might like, Sirius was a confidant for <em> both </em> of them as much as it made him uncomfortable at times to think of Harry being in a relationship with someone as overtly sensual as Jean-Claude, so Harry doubted he wouldn’t like whatever it was.</p><p>Nonetheless: he wanted to <em> see, </em> but Jean-Claude’s tone wasn’t heartening over the chance of Harry enjoying whatever the latest bomb this world had to drop on his shoulders.</p><p>“What is it, Jean-Claude?”</p><p>“It happens but rarely,” Jean-Claude slowly picked his way through the minefield that this topic had quickly become over the last week.  One that Jean-Claude had been in no rush to navigate as it became clear it would not be as...<em> natural </em> a matter as it should be because of Harry’s strangely inflexible flexible moral code.  For all that his little monster saw so much in shades of grey, there were moments when he turned intransigent.  Crimes and behaviors that he saw as utter rights and utter wrongs.  It said something about either Jean-Claude or Harry’s luck that through no actions of either of <em> them </em> they had stumbled into a fraught situation what was likely to hit, and hard, against one of Harry’s right/wrong moments.  “That when a master vampire takes both a human servant <em> and </em> an animal to call within a short amount of time, that the bonds between them can, well, shift or stretch and create a rare ability to share and amplify power between <em> all </em> of them and not just the master and their bonded alone.”</p><p>Bless or curse Harry’s quick mind, it took him all of a matter of moments to put the pieces together, his spine snapping straight and a near-snarl twisting at his mouth for a moment before he refound his composure.</p><p>“What’s it called?”  He asked, hand flexing and relaxing in a spasm under Jean-Claude’s hold.  “This <em> rare occurrence </em> that I’m assuming vampires keep secret except among their own.”  His nose wrinkled.  “Since I imagine if you’ve grown more powerful by being bound to me, adding the <em> Ulfric,” </em> and yep, there was that near-snarl again.  “To the mix and the increase becomes what,” he frowned.  “Exponential instead of the standard bump from having an animal to call?”</p><p>“Not just to me,” Jean-Claude clarified before Harry’s temper could truly rise.  “To both of you as well.  It takes time to develop and blossom.”</p><p>“And the more powerful the ones bound to you,” Harry sighed, rolling his head on his neck as he shoved down his temper as he remembered how fast everything had happened.  There was no way even <em> Jean-Claude </em> could have anticipated the Ulfric having a marker for Harry nor how he chose to use it.  And with Nikolaos in power, Harry and Sirius both in danger, then Jean-Claude being taken by Nikolaos, and a city on the verge of devolving into a bloodbath, Jean-Claude hadn’t <em> exactly </em> had time to educate Harry in all the strange, weird, or even standard quirks that came with vampires in this new world.  Nor did he even have the knowledge of how lacking Harry’s education <em> even is </em> because of how he came to live in St. Louis.  Jean-Claude couldn’t be expected - or Rafael, or any of his other new friends or acquaintances - to fix shit that he or they didn’t know about.  “The more powerful <em> you </em> and they in turn are.”  </p><p>Harry suddenly wanted a nap rather than have to deal with all of this.  A long one.  Wake him up in a year or two, yeah, that sounds awesome.</p><p>“Which may have contributed, though until we know if a triumvirate <em> is </em> forming or not,” Jean-Claude told him.  “We will not know for certain, to your issues with your magic.”</p><p>“Eh,” Harry shrugged.  “My magic is weird about bindings and bonds.  It always will be because of events in my past we haven’t gotten around to talking about yet.  Better to plan for it than not and be surprised.”  He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.  “I won’t have to fuck the Ulfric will I?”  He asked bluntly.  “Because at the moment I mostly want to kick his ass from one side of St. Louis to the other for what went on under his nose in <em> his Pack </em> at the hands of <em> his </em> Lupa.”</p><p>Ignorance was no excuse in Harry’s opinion when someone was in a position of that kind of power.</p><p>That was like Dumbledore constantly shrugging off Snape’s asshole behavior towards everyone but Slytherins: total bullshit when he had a duty of care for those under his charge.</p><p>“I would never insist on such a thing, though Marcus is a beautiful wolf.”  Jean-Claude assured him, more than a bit amused.  “As you come to know him in fact and not merely in reputation or through the lens of Raina, you might come to desire him of your own accord.”</p><p>“Maybe,” Harry wasn’t dismissing the possibility out of hand, but he wasn’t going to rush to be all forgiving and shit.  Duty of care was a thing.  It was a responsibility that Harry took seriously and it would be quite some time before he was even close to okay with everyone who <em> could have </em> done something about at <em> least </em> Raina under Nikolaos’s rules and looked the other way.  Sirius had a point about Potters and their high horses, he couldn’t deny that, but until the Pard could be in the same <em> room </em> as an alpha or a dominant without flinching or jumping to please them, Harry wouldn’t be queuing up to understand anyone’s point of view on the subject <em> but </em> his Pard’s.  “I think I have enough on my plate and in my bed at the moment, for all that the heads-up is appreciated.”</p><p>At the least it would keep Harry from frying Marcus’s mind or inner-wolf or whatever it was that came through this potential triumvirate thing.  Bond.  Rarity.</p><p>Fuck, like Harry needed anything else to add to his list to research the shit out of.</p><p>“Now,” Harry grinned, playfully wriggling his hand under Jean-Claude’s.  “Present?”</p><p>Chuckling, Jean-Claude shook his head a bit at Harry’s ability to adapt in an instant - as well as ignore events and information he didn’t want to think about - then lifted his hand, freeing Harry’s and allowing him to open his present.</p><p>Harry flipped the top of the box open, brows rising in surprise at the piece it contained.</p><p>“Talked to Sirius?”  He asked, though he already knew the answer as he lifted the non-magical equivalent of a wizarding marriage cuff out of the silk cushioning lining the box.</p><p>It was a simple, elegant piece of jewelry: an inch wide and made of platinum, with a burnished polish rather than a bright gleam that was lovely and understated and a small opening on the underside for Harry to slip it on his wrist.</p><p>Of course the square and round cut white diamonds that wrote out <em> Jean-Claude </em> on the face of the bangle, leaving only a thin line of platinum at the top and bottom of the cuff and spreading from left-to-right without curving around the sides of his wrist utterly <em> ruined </em> the attempt at being lowkey in a filigree calligraphy but he supposed it was the thought that counted (and it wasn’t like Jean-Claude had a wizarding house crest to use instead.)</p><p>Fancy French vampire would be fancy, he supposed, for all that Jean-Claude didn’t tend to wear any jewelry of his own at all.</p><p>The cuff however wasn’t about flash so much as it was a statement to anyone Harry might meet outside of the Court, and he wasn’t going to try and fool himself otherwise, for all that he did appreciate the thought that went into selecting something he might have chosen himself, diamonds aside.</p><p>With a wry smile, Harry picked it up and handed it over to his vampire, then offered his right wrist, unsurprised when under Jean-Claude’s clever hands that it fit perfectly at the base of his hand and didn’t rub up against his wand holster at all.</p><p>A flick of his wrist and a tap of his wand in his off-hand had the open ends of the cuff morphing and sealing together, locking the cuff in place the way it would be worn following a traditional wizarding marriage-bond ceremony.</p><p>Given that he’d sworn himself to Jean-Claude forever, not just one lifetime, he felt it was rather appropriate.</p><p>“He enlightened me to some aspects of your people’s traditions.”  Jean-Claude answered, smiling with delight as he watched the piece he’d selected effectively become as permanent as such an adornment could be without actual body modification.  Which was a step Jean-Claude saw no purpose to, for all that some of the elders of his kind preferred it especially with the ease of such things in the modern day.  “You use your hands too much for rings to be practical when another option had greater appeal, <em> mon tresor.” </em></p><p>Harry smiled and ducked his head at that, left hand fiddling a bit with the cuff after he cast a few spells under Jean-Claude’s rapt gaze for things like cleanliness and comfort.</p><p>“I have assigned Damian to be your bodyguard.”  Jean-Claude dismissed the adoring lover for a moment and slipped into being Master of the City, Harry focusing in turn.  “He will live here with you if you allow it, train you in his combat skills if you wish, and be an <em> unmistakable </em> reminder to any would-be troublemakers that you are <em> mien </em> if the other markers are dismissed.”</p><p>“That it will hopefully help break some of his dependence on Perrin is a plus as well.”  Harry mused, thinking of the pair that are hardly ever apart since they’d arrived.  “If he simply shifts it over to Nathaniel is a problem I’ll have to make sure is avoided.”</p><p>Even if Nathaniel <em> was </em> perfectly healthy and had no problems of his own, having a vampire fixate on him wouldn’t be good for <em> any </em> submissive from what he understood of their instincts from the Rodere.</p><p>Friendship, sure.</p><p>Trying to replace Perrin with Damian?</p><p><em> That </em> would only end in disaster for everyone involved.</p><p>“Having a submissive shifter relying on him might be just the impetus to change and adapt Damian needs.”  Jean-Claude suggested, because all <em> sense </em> knew that he’s tried to think his way around and through the problem children the Council had sent him but Damian’s <em> issues </em> as Harry would put it are so deeply ingrained he was coming up short on bright ideas to break the reliance the older vampire had on others.  While he didn’t act the same as the Pard, Damian had little personal autonomy or impulses, all of his focus and survival dialed into those he leaned on for guidance such as Perrin.  No one had ever, or so it seemed to Jean-Claude, relied on Damian for anything but his obedience.  Perhaps Nathaniel needing his strength to recover would be the missing piece in allowing Damian to be more than an attractive statue with excellent sword skills and fighting ability.  Perhaps not.  Either way, Harry and the Pard would have one of the best assets in Jean-Claude’s court for physical protection he could offer.  “He will obey you, I’ve made certain of it, and his loyalty is absolute once given.”</p><p>“He’ll still have to feed at the Circus.”  Harry put Jean-Claude on notice.  “None of my leopards are in any position to agree to being donors when they can hardly tell up from down without an order at the moment.”</p><p>“<em>Ç'est vrai!” </em>  Jean-Claude nodded.  “And my dancers?”</p><p>“We’ll see in a week or two if they still want to work at <em> Guilty Pleasures </em> in their current roles or if other arrangements will need to be made.”  Harry said firmly.  “I’m not taking anything for granted when it comes to what Gabriel forced them into or what he didn’t.”  He smirked a bit.  “You might find yourself with a new dancer or waiter in Zane, he’s the sort that would <em> definitely </em> like the attention unless I’m missing my guess, especially now that it won’t be focused on his fangs.”</p><p>“He <em> is </em> quite the enchanting little thing.”  Jean-Claude readily agreed with that much.  Gabriel had excellent taste in aesthetics for his Pard members, even if he failed in every other way that Jean-Claude could think of as a leader.  “Aubrey should have that list you requested ready and sent to you by now.  And of course any of your leopards who wish to work for my club are welcome, though your ladies might be better suited to the Circus or another of my interests.”</p><p>“I’m wealthy, Jean-Claude.”  Harry held in the urge to roll his eyes.  “They don’t have to work a day in their lives after the hell they’ve been through if they don’t want to.”  He waved his hand, flicking the subject away.  “Go be the Master of the City,” Harry nudged him, leaning in and stealing a kiss.  “Take your sassy <em> pomme. </em>  The Pard and I need to start figuring things out without an outside presence.”</p><p>That Harry would like to negotiate the terms of Nathaniel being Damian’s animal-to-call without a third party trying to stick their two cents in - even as well meaning as Jason, or knowledgable as Jean-Claude - he didn’t want to have to state <em> out loud </em> but he would if he had to.</p><p>Thankfully, one of the things Harry genuinely appreciated about his vampire was that Jean-Claude was no fool.</p><p>A handsy asshole sometimes who left him fuzzy and turned on, laid flat-out on the bed and unsatisfied in direct retaliation to his attempt to <em> handle </em> the vampire, but not a fool.</p><p>…</p><p>“Damian,” Harry caught the vampire’s eye where the massive former-Viking was holding up a bit of wall across from the stairs on the first floor.  Which was the best his new bodyguard could do given that he didn’t have permissions in the wards yet to access the upstairs <em> and </em> it allowed him to keep an eye on the obvious entrances/exits to the house.  “With me.”</p><p>The redhead pushed himself off the wall in a show of pretending human that he actually did better than most vampires that age, even if he <em> did </em> tend to forget to breath or blink <em> more </em> often than any other Harry had met thus far, even his buddy - he was pretty sure he’d heard the phrase <em> kinsman </em> tossed around - Perrin.</p><p>Harry led him into his den, then tossed up a one-way silencing spell on the doorway that allowed ambient noise - like Harry’s breathing - to pass through but canceled their voices.</p><p>A wave of his hand had the tall male sliding into one of the overstuffed armchairs Harry was fond of that he’d set in front of the fireplace, Harry taking the one opposite him.</p><p>“We will need to discuss the terms of your assignment as my bodyguard in a moment but first there is another topic on which we need to reach an agreement regarding.”  Harry told him formally, crossing his legs, bare foot swinging even as he laced his fingers over his stomach and slouched back in his chair in stark contrast to Damian’s military - or vampire - rigid posture.</p><p>“Nathaniel.”</p><p>Damian’s Danish - or, well <em> pre-Danish </em> he supposed - accent was out in full-force.</p><p>The bond must be working fast: Harry was reading that as protectiveness and when it came to <em> that </em> particular emotion, he was rarely wrong.</p><p>“Yes, Nathaniel.”  Harry nodded his head slightly to the side in agreement.  “We will <em> both </em> be speaking to him shortly so there are no miscommunications, but first we need to reach an accord.”  Harry’s eyes flashed in warning despite his indolent posture.  “Let me be clear: Nathaniel is <em> mine </em> before he is anything else.  I am his Alpha, and it is the nature of shifters to follow a strong Alpha above anything else - and make no mistake, I <em> am </em> a strong Alpha.”</p><p>“I would expect nothing else from a dragon.”  Damian’s tone was mild, but Harry was actually <em> happy </em> to hear a hint of snark hidden underneath.</p><p>Well well, perhaps not so lost and subsumed under his former Mistress after all.</p><p>Will wonders never cease.</p><p>But then, rarely did even powerful vampires survive to Damian’s age without being adaptable.</p><p>“Good.”  Harry countered, smiling brightly.  “Never forget that and I’ll never break the bond between you, which I could do even if I <em> hadn’t </em> been the one to form it.  I’d hate to cost Jean-Claude one of his favorite bodyguards, but those under my personal protection win over, shall we say, those I have shared custody over?  If I am pushed to break the bond between you and Nathaniel and deny him what I believe could be a source of comfort, protection, and stability, you <em> won’t </em> live to regret it.”</p><p>“I understand your meaning.”  Damian told him, only somewhat terrified - which likely would have Perrin once more questioning his sanity, especially as Damian was <em> more </em> than well aware that the small little wizard with his pretty face and interesting scars could more than back up any threat he chose to level at him.  Or maybe he really was as broken as the Council had seemed to believe.  Either way, with Jean-Claude's word regarding his servant - who acted more like a consort than any human servant he’d ever met - wedged into the back of his mind, Damian found the wizard’s passion and ferocity when it came to his people more enticing than was sound.  “My bond with Nathaniel does not supersede your own, especially as I am blood-oathed to Master Jean-Claude and your will is his will.”</p><p>Harry wasn’t <em> perfectly </em> happy with that last bit, but it worked so he’d take it.</p><p>“Good,” Harry repeated himself.  “Now, I have a small list of rules for the moment for the Pard until I get them into therapy and am able to refine it.”  He quickly rattled them off, Damian nodding at the end and seeming almost pensive though with his normally stoic expression it was a bit hard to tell for certain.  “What this means for your bond to Nathaniel is that sex is completely off the table until I have assurances from a mental health professional that he <em> can </em> both consent and refuse, and for the same reason feeding unless its an emergency is likewise not happening.”</p><p>That took the vampire aback it was plain to see, but that likewise wasn’t a surprise.</p><p>A vampire’s - especially anyone older than a century - idea of consent to anything including feeding and sex was...well, practically nonexistent for the most part.</p><p>They took what they wanted from who they wanted so long as they were strong enough to do so.</p><p>It was <em> horrifying </em> and one of the key issues that Jean-Claude was trying to stamp out, even if the old bastard’s own ideas of consent could be appallingly squishy once their ability to roll someone’s mind came into play.</p><p>Not that Jean-Claude would ever <em> really </em> need to roll someone in order to get whatever the fuck he wanted from them, but that others <em> did </em> act that way wasn’t an automatic black mark on their character as far as the vampire was concerned.</p><p>And yes, they’ve argued about that - in private - more than once but sometimes trying to pound modern ideas into old-as-shit skulls was a losing proposition.</p><p>Jean-Claude preferred to take on the outright depravities instead of the more nebulous moral issues - which couldn’t be faulted considering just <em> how bad </em> some of those depravities were - while Harry would rather just burn the system down and start rebuilding from the ashes.</p><p>Which usually got him a smile and called an anarchist but, well, maybe Jean-Claude wasn’t all that wrong about that part, for all that Harry was <em> willing </em> to play along when he had to.</p><p>He just never <em> liked </em> it.</p><p>“Let’s go talk to a kitten then.”  Harry stood, moving for the doorway, having kept a mental eye on the cuddle-pile currently going on per his orders earlier down in the mattress room with the exception of who he thought was Cherry who was reading in the sitting/landing area in the basement.  “Then we’ll sort out one of the vampire-safe rooms for you since according to my high-handed lover, you’re assigned to me full-time.”</p><p>That brought Damian up short for a moment.</p><p>“I will not be continuing to live at the Circus caverns?”  <em> He’ll be living apart from Perrin??? </em></p><p>“No,” the wizard shot him a glance over his shoulder that made it apparent to Damian that he knew <em> exactly </em> where his mind had went and was <em> waiting </em> for insubordination over it.  Which Damian would not give.  He would not disappoint one of the Masters of the City so swiftly on the wings of being entrusted with the care of a person who was clearly precious to him.  “You will not.  As my bodyguard you will be living here as for some weeks - perhaps even months - I will be spending the majority of my time rehabilitating a group of severely abused people.”</p><p>And while nothing was said outright, somehow Damian was left with the impression that he was also on that list.</p><p>Shocking even himself, Damian found that he wasn’t actually opposed to that.</p><p>Not if it was at Master Harry’s command and hand.</p><p>Damian had thought he knew what honor was once, when he was a human raider who lived for the rush of battle and killing.</p><p>He thought, perhaps, that whether at Master Harry’s side or guarding his back, he might find <em> true </em> honor in his deeds once more.</p><p>…</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>New French:</p><p>Ç'est vrai! - indeed, of course</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Honor Bound</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Epilogue: Contingency Plans</b>
</p><p>The Pard’s new therapist closed the last file on Harry’s submissives and studied him with dark eyes.</p><p>“And how are <em> you </em> dealing with all this?”  She probed.  “Taking on your wereleopards, <em> any </em> shifter group really but especially <em> this </em> shifter group - it’s a lot of responsibility.  A lot of significant change in a short amount of time.”</p><p>Harry gave a sardonic laugh at that.</p><p>He’d figured she wouldn’t be able to help herself but to try and take him on too.</p><p>He couldn’t even say it was a bad idea.</p><p>Part of him, however, tended to shy away from the idea of <em> therapy </em> or admitting even for a moment that something was wrong.</p><p>So, he deflected.</p><p>“The <em> wrong </em> responsibility if I listen to Siri.”</p><p>“And how do you feel about that?”  She pressed.  “Your godfather from all accounts is perhaps the most significant figure in your life, from what the Pard has said at times even before your lovers.  Having him disapprove of your choices must be difficult.”</p><p>Harry shrugged.  “Not as much as you’d expect.  I stopped counting on the approval of would-be authority figures a long time ago.”</p><p>“Let’s…”</p><p>“Let’s <em> not.” </em>  Harry cut her off full-stop.  “I need your advice to best lead the Pard and help them heal.  I’m not here for my own accord, Doctor.”</p><p>“Perhaps,” though she certainly thought he should be.  “Then let us discuss Nathaniel and Damian’s situation…”</p><p>…</p><p>The Traveler held in the all-too-human urge to <em> sigh </em> as his fellow Council members whipped themselves into a frothing furor over Belle Morte’s Jean-Claude for perhaps the dozenth time in the last month since the delectable morsel rose to the position of Master of St. Louis.</p><p>At first it was entertaining - now it was merely another irritation among many others regarding his place in their society.</p><p>But he dare not surrender it for his <em> preferred </em> pleasures, lest the balance of power in the Council become unstable - and <em> that </em> was a situation that not even Morte d’Amour would manage to find amusement in.</p><p>He exchanged a <em> look </em> with the Dragon, who he thought was the second eldest among them after the Earthmover and certainly preceded his own turning, then stepped into the verbal barrage of insults between Padma and Oliver - the Master of Beasts and the Earthmover respectively - and at least attempted to contain them.</p><p>Which was more than the infamous bitch Belle Morte was doing as she watched the contretemps in languid amusement.</p><p>“Against tradition or <em> not,” </em> he stated emphatically.  “Our kind <em> are </em> public now and unless we wish to return to the days of the Hunts then the Masters of Cities are <em> required </em> by our own laws to keep our business in the shadows and avoid undo attention.  Dracula disobeyed this and will pay with his existence.  Jean-Claude on the other hand has quite <em> skillfully </em> consolidated the disparate powers in his domain and managed to keep his people under control after the first few days following his ascension.  There is <em> no crime </em> in obeying laws, and even <em> we </em> are not truly immortal.”</p><p>“We <em> must </em> act.”  The Earthmover snarled.  “Our kind are not <em> meant </em> to be known and now we grow unchecked and in the open.  It is <em> blasphemy </em> that it is so!”</p><p>“No.”  The Traveler told him, resolute, the others nodding in agreement - albeit reluctantly on the part of Padma and Morte d’Amour who were always ready and willing for bloodshed.  “We <em> will not </em> move against Jean-Claude, not without cause.”</p><p>The ancient vampire slammed his hands against the table, breaking it in two, and then stormed away, his human servant following behind him as obedient as ever.</p><p>“That is going to be a problem.”  The Dragon observed darkly.  “If he moves against Jean-Claude and succeeds, we risk making the Chevalier a martyr and rallying point for all those who harbor grievances against the Council.”</p><p>“And without <em> Her,” </em> Morte d’Amour added with ghoulish excitement.  “Such a change in the status quo may yet be our undoing.”</p><p>“The solution is simple.”  Belle Morte offered with a moue of her lips in distaste.  Jean-Claude <em> had </em> been her favorite for a time.  Until he chose to leave her.  “Should the Earthmover set foot in the New World, we excise him from the Council.  Then it becomes a matter of a master vampire challenging a Master of a City and <em> not </em> a move of the Council against one of our loyal subjects.”</p><p>“Cunning as you are beautiful as ever.”  Padma said, though with distaste.  Though she was powerful, Belle Morte had no <em> true </em> ally among the Council.</p><p>Such could be said of them all.</p><p>“And if he loses?”  The Traveler pointed out the - well, not <em> obvious </em> the Earthmover was beyond formidable an opponent - flip side of that particular coin.  “As inconceivable as that might seem.”  He arched a brow at the others when they scoffed at the notion.  “Once upon a time, all of <em> you </em> were convinced that the Chevalier would never be more than a pretty toy and sex slave.  Now he is the Master of St. Louis.”</p><p>“Nikolaos was no Earthmover.”  Belle Morte waved a dismissive hand.  “And rumor has it that it was mostly the work of Jean-Claude’s servant, not himself that saw the deed done.”</p><p>“So, if the servant once more assists?”  He pressed his point home.  “If he magic is strong enough to overcome the talents of the Earthmover and his court?  What then will this Council do once we have lost one of our greatest weapons and reaffirmed a potential enemy all in one fell swoop?”</p><p>“You worry too much.”  Padma clicked his tongue dismissively.  “You’ll give your latest plaything wrinkles, Traveler.”</p><p>Perhaps, perhaps not.</p><p>Perhaps he should go and see this powerful sorcerer for himself.</p><p>If nothing else, it would save him from playing audience to Belle Morte’s petulance for a time - a boon that was not to be understated.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me on Facebook here: https://www.facebook.com/sif.shadowheart</p><p>I also have an album dedicated to this series with casting and reference pictures for most of the characters on my facebook, the direct link is here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set?set=a.1135334756817353&amp;type=3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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